Captured
by Arya Rocks
Summary: A promise was made. An oath was given. The game has changed. Eragon is now under Galbatorix's thumb. Eragon isn't himself anymore. Now he is known as Justus, the feared right hand man of Galbatorix. Will Eragon turn against his new master? Or he is lost forever? Also, what is with this new brand of soldiers?
1. Captured

**A/N (1):**__**This is a new story I'm typing up! I hope you all enjoy it and find it a good read! It's something I'm going to try to type well with hardly any mistakes! Therefore, I encourage you, if you find any mistakes you tell me! I'll absolutely love to see some feedback about me making mistakes. It shows that you truly read this piece!**

**A fair warning, it isn't that long. The first chapter, I promise, will be exceptionally longer!**

**Here's a brief summary! **

**Summary:**_**Eragon is captured and is being held prisoner at Galbatorix's castle. How long will it take for Eragon to cave and give his oath to the mad king, or worst, give into death itself? He fights every day to survive, but his will is growing weaker with each passing day. Will he give in? Or will he fight? How long**__**will Eragon Bromsson last in the clutches of the mad king, Galbatorix? **_

**There's your brief summary! I hope you find it interesting!**

_You're not alone_

_Together we stand_

_I'll be by your side_

_You know I'll take your hand_

_When it gets cold_

_And it feels like the end_

_There's no place to go_

_You know I won't give in_

_No, I won't give in_

_Keep holdin on_

'_Cause you know we'll make it through_

_We'll make it through_

_Just stay strong_

'_Cause you know I'm here for you_

_I'm here for you_

_There's nothin you can say_

_Nothin you can do_

_There's no other way when it comes to the truth_

_So just keep holding on_

_~Keep Holding On ~Avril Lavigne_

**Song of the day: Keep Holding On by Arvil Lavigne! I find this song so inspiring! Don't you? Yes it is on the Eragon movie, which I absolutely hated with a burning passion. Really? Really? I'm just shocked by how badly they messed it up! **

**Anyways, after that rant and song, I hope you like the prologue!**

**Oh, before I forget, I'll be trying other POVs as well besides Eragon. Here are some I'll try, but won't write often if they're too messed up! Arya, Murtagh, Galbatorix, and Nasuada are the POVs I'll give a shot at! Nobody else! I refuse to do Roran's POV! I skipped through most of his chapters in Eldest. I don't really like him all that much! **

**Disclaimer: I'm not CP! I'm not old; I'm only 16 and a female! I'm not a 30 something male-who, too, writes terrible romance!**

**This chapter has been edited by Brisingr5508! (8-1-13)**

**Prologue: Waking Up**

_Pain…Suffering…Misery…Depression…Torment…Pure, twisted agony…Blood…Hazy memories…Blurred faces…Inarticulate words…A pale hand reaching outwards…A dark gray sky…Small wet drops...A red sea…A black abyss…A dark cloud…Flashing sliver…A ball of dark-green…A wall of sapphire…A mighty, dishearten and earthshattering roar…More pain…Inky blackness…Numbness…A bright light…A gleaming sliver…Crimson banners…An intimidating wall of black…Then…Nothing. _

Slick, slimy wetness pressed against his back. A chilly air surrounded him. Black, dancing dots skirted over his vision. Piercing blue eyes stared him down, along with emotionless green eyes. A curtain of lush black fell upon his mind's gaze. Dimness ruled over the majority of his mind, his mind not able to think and work clearly. A heart wrenching echo wafted through his vacant mind. The anguish filled echoes resonating all over his blank mind. Suddenly, so fast he was barely able to catch it, a gleam of sterling silver, which disappeared into thin air just as quickly. Dizziness welled up inside his throbbing mind, throwing him into a downward spiral of instability. Inky blackness plagued his mind once again, dragging him underneath its cold clutches.

_Brown eyes…A quite, gruff voice…Loud clanging…Echoing footsteps…Pure agony…More screams of terror…A beautiful white light…A dark ghost shaping into the skies…A sea of crimson red…Black, hatred filled eyes-somewhat smug, too…A deep menacing laugh...A mighty roar of superiority…Gasping for breath…A bizarre pressure upon his neck…A sound of snapping…Smell of death...A black, faceless wall…Moving imagines…Weird phases…Mushy, unclear words…A chilly breath tickling over the shell of his ear…More footsteps…More screams, though more pained…Nothing…Or at least he thought…A raven waterfall…Now…Nothing._

Blood trickled down his chin, landing on the ground with a silent sigh. Tears prickled his eyes for unknown reasons. His mind couldn't grasp the fact that it has gone completely, utterly unstable. His eyes hooded with the distant edge. His mouth set agape with short, heavy pants tearing its way through. A deep, unbearable throbbing pain thudded in his right side, where his ribs were located. It felt like they were broken but he wasn't sure. Every breath he took was pure agony; it physically killed him to take a measly little breath. _How pathetic_, he thought with bitterness. _I'm a weakling, no I'm even lower than that_, he thought with pure hatred, his mind rung with silent confirmation to his statement. His heart cried out it wasn't true, but his heart was something he never bothered to listen to. He tended to ignore its demands with easy, subtle grace.

A cough expanded throughout the cold, tiny cell. The coughing spasm didn't past for a long time, for it showed how sick he was becoming. His sickness grew rapidly, easily rendering him useless and weak. A lone tear slid down his face. He longed to weep, but he refused to cry in the presence of his torturers, he settled for crying in his cell. Another cough racked his broken body. His right side was in twisted, ineffable agony. The coughs that took over his body served to make the pain even more brutal.

Faintly, as his hearing ability was deteriorating with blinding speed, he heard a door slam shut. Heavy footsteps clicked against the cold floor. Black, leather boots entered his line of vision. He couldn't see the figure's face, for his head was bowed downwards. A mocking chuckle met his ears. He, mentally, flinched away from the horrible sound. It sounded like somebody was taking a sharpened sword and scraping it against the rock wall. Red light bathed the dim cell. The boots shuffled a little. A throat being cleared snapped his eyes upwards.

A man with thin silver hair stood there. The man wore a menacing smirk, his eyes filled with hatred. Wrinkles covered his face, and tiny-almost invisible-moles littered his ancient looking face. The man's hands were small and fragile looking. In said hands was a set of metal, rusted keys. About ten keys dangled from a circular key holder. They loudly jingled together as he maneuvered them, trying to find the right key. After murmuring a soft 'ah' he successfully picked a key out. The key effortless slid into the keyhole, the door opened with a soft click. The cell door swung open, a groaning sound emitting from it as the rusty hinges moved.

The man proceeded to saunter into the cell, the lantern held in his hand-the one without the keys-soaked the dimly lit cell with a bright, red light. The small flame inside the lantern flickered like it was close to going out. The man advanced towards him, the same smirk splashed across his face. The man grabbed his neck chain and hauled him upwards, until he gasped for breath, the neck chain choking him to death. The man shoved him downwards, his head colliding quite loudly with the rocky wall. A dull thud resonated throughout the cell. The only sound was his labored breathing and the man's chuckles. The man unlocked his chains, making sure he couldn't get away. After removing all his chains, the man hooked a new pair around his wrists.

"Oh, I forgot we haven't formally." the man declared like this was normal. The man's voice was nonchalant and uncaring as the man's eyes roved over his form. The violet irises made him cringe internally. They were filled with loathing and malice. A mocking grin was plastered to his wrinkled, archaic face. "Please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Prometheus." the man, now known as Prometheus, introduced himself casually. Prometheus tightened his grip on the wrist shackles until they painfully chafed against his tender skin. "I'll be leading your torture today, _rider_." Prometheus sneered the word 'rider' with a passion filled fury. Prometheus' eyes burned with a deep, unyielding hatred. Prometheus roughly, like expected, jerked him off the ground, making his ribs protest vehemently. A wheeze of pain tore through his lips. That hurt like hell!

He didn't know what a rider was. What is a rider? Are they a group of people or something along those lines? He had no clue what they were, for he never heard of such a word. Until now, that is. He didn't comprehend why this man hated him for something he wasn't. It was clearly written in the man's expression that he harbored a strong loathing for riders. What did Prometheus gain by calling him something he hadn't the slightest inkling about? It made absolutely no sense.

No matter how many times he told them. They still didn't believe him. They thought he wasn't telling the truth, trying to protect the 'Varden', whoever they were. He didn't understand why they just wouldn't let him go, for he wasn't a threat, but they viewed him as one. Therefore, he was stuck inside this hell hole until he proved what he said was the truth.

It was true. He couldn't recollect anything about his past, only darkness blanketed his blank mind. He couldn't remember anything about himself, not even his own name.

That was right. He, whoever he was, had no memory of his past whatsoever. All he saw was an inky blackness.

**A/N (2): This prologue is 1,144 words total, not very long at all. I promise, however, that the chapters will be. My chapters range from 3,000 to 6,000 words. It just depends what I want to accomplish with each chapter. **

**Oh, this is going to be a fun story to write. Poor Eragon has forgotten his memories. Doesn't even know his own name, how terrible am I? **

**You may want to know he was captured, but that is going to be a long while! This is an AU world, that is completely obvious. It will deal with the war and stuff! I may add other POVs, but I want to see how good I do them! If they're good enough, I'll write more in them. The POVs that will possibly pop up in this story is in the beginning A/N note! So, in case you didn't catch it, scroll back up there and read it! **

**I'll continue this if I get enough reviews to do so! So please review! You may flame, for they will be used to make gooey, chocolate chip cookies. So again: review, Review, and REVIEW!**

**I hope you liked it! Please leave me some feedback, for I LOVE to hear from readers! **

**Again, I'll only continue this if I get enough reviews saying to! **

**Another big thanks to Brisingr5508 for editing this chapter! **

**Have a good morning, afternoon, evening, or night!**

**Peace out!**

**Arya Rocks! **


	2. Chapter 1: Torture and a Mysterious Man

**A/N (1): Thanks for the reviews to continue, I shall do it! Thank you for all that reviewed, I'll be thanking you at the bottom!**

**Here is the second installment of **_**Captured! **_** I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. I play with the characters and put them through hell for fun! But I don't own them. But I do own the plot and Prometheus and whoever my weird mind comes up with!**

**Oh, since I can't call Eragon by his name this how he and Prometheus will be referred as:**

**Prometheus: Prometheus, older man, and he/him.**

**Eragon: He/him, younger man, or boy. **

_FALL!_

_Now the dark begins to rise_

_Save your breath it's far from over_

_Leave the lost and dead behind_

_Now's your chance to run for cover_

_I don't wanna change the world_

_I just wanna leave it colder_

_Light the fuse and burn it up_

_Take the path that leads to nowhere_

_All is lost again_

_But I'm not givin in_

_I will not bow!_

_I will not break!_

_I will shut the world away!_

_I will not fall!_

_I will not fade!_

_I will take your breath away_

_FALL!_

**Song of the day: I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin. This band is pretty damn awesome! **

**This chapter has been edited by Arya Rocks! (8-1-13)**

**Chapter 1: Torture and a Mysterious Man**

Prometheus grabbed him by his wrist shackles, shoving him forward none to gently. Prometheus continued to push him down a dimly lit corridor, the only light provided by a few lanterns spaced out. Pained faces peered outwards, their eyes glowing in the dark cells. When the light dusted over them, he caught the bony, sick faces of the other prisoners. They stared at him with pity. They watched as he was marched towards his breaking. Some had the decency to cry out and grab his arm, pulling him towards them.

Prometheus opened the door from which he emerged from earlier, this time though, he had a prisoner prepared for the torture room. The young man dreaded what was to become of this. He didn't want to go back to that terrible room. When he was first here, he feared what lay behind it. Now, after experiencing it first hand, he wanted to die before he entered that horrid room. Two guards stood watch, their silver helms casting light throughout the dark pathway. They each carried a long, metal spear. The tip of it coated in some sort of liquid. He had to squint to see it, but he was fairly sure it was a poison of some kind.

The guards looked onwards, their faces blank, but cautious. They looked at Prometheus, but didn't question him. They moved aside instantly as they consented him access. They even opened the doors for Prometheus. When their eyes landed on him, they were turned from emotionless stares to disgust and a little bit of smugness. One guard spat in his face as Prometheus forced him pass them. They chortled to each other quietly, not realizing that he could here as plain as day. He mentally growled, cursing them inside his mind.

When they entered the room, he felt the fear knot into his stomach. Apprehension rolled off him in waves, but he didn't show it, no, he hid beneath a carefully constructed mask of indifference. The room was fairly dark, two lanterns casting light over it. On the back wall was a set of chains. They were like the cell's chains, but these didn't have a waist and neck one. In the middle of the room, hanging from the ceiling, was a leather rope. It lopped to form a neck holder. A small, wooden stool was placed underneath it. Along the right wall, near the chain set, was an uncomfortable looking table. It was roughly seven feet long, about ten inches wide. On the far left wall was a shelf chalk full of torturing devices. Whips, branders, swords, spikes, daggers, and even some spears were placed neatly on the shelf.

Prometheus led him to the wooden table. Leather straps were coiled around him, one around each wrist, one around each ankle, and one wrapped around his waist. Prometheus tightened it, pinning the boy down to the crude surface. The grain rubbed irritably against the young man's scarred back. Prometheus grinned down at him, a sick, twisted smile that made him shiver. His torturer leaned down and whispered in his ear. "We are going have such great fun today, rider." Once again, like last time, Prometheus sneered the word rider. Also, while he was saying that, Prometheus twined his fingers in the young boy's hair. Prometheus roughly pulled, eliciting a tiny whimper from the boy.

"I'll start off easy," Prometheus commented like that was supposed to help him relax. Well, all things considering, it definitely didn't work. It served to only terrify him even more, which was something that easily done now days. Prometheus patted his cheek, almost affectionately, but that pat turned into a slap. Swiftly, a calloused hand collided with his left cheek, making the boy's head turned with a loud _pop_. "See," the man cooed. "That wasn't so bad," Prometheus chuckled to himself mostly. "But, I promise, it will get a whole lot worse." Prometheus swore with conviction, his hand held steady over his cold heart. An evil grin lit up his face. Going back to work, Prometheus walked over to the shelf full of those terrible devices.

After glancing over them for a few brief moments, Prometheus found just the one he was looking for. After grabbing it off the shelf, Prometheus marched back over to the boy. The boy's eyes were wild with fear and distraught. A sick sense of pride bubbled inside Prometheus; he was getting a rise out of causing this boy pain. A twisted sense of joy, too, joined with the pride. Prometheus would most positively enjoy making this boy suffer and extracting screams of agony from his mouth. Prometheus was positive he could destroy the boy's body, mind, heart, and even his soul. The older man was enraptured with this young rider. His chocolate brown eyes filled with the deepest form of suffering and misery. Soon, very soon, those eyes would be filled with nothing but hatred and insanity. Prometheus was sure about it.

The boy lay limply upon the coarse wood. Prometheus towered over him, a taunting smirk etched on his lips. From behind Prometheus' back he revealed a metal spike. The older man slammed the spike down, driving it into the wooden surface, mere inches away from the younger man's face. Prometheus chuckled with the absolute fear in the boy's eyes. Oh how he was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Prometheus spun around and headed towards a fire pit within the dim cell. He muttered a few words and a fire came roaring to life inside the pit. To the boy it looked like a demon's fiery clutches coming to haul him over the coals. Prometheus pulled the spike out effortlessly, his eyes not even tightening with concentration. The old man slowly roasted the spike over the fire, making sure it was good and hot. It was at first a dull gray color, then turned red, and finally a sinister blue. It glowed brightly, and sweat beaded the older man's face. Prometheus did three more like that before stopping and walking back over to the boy.

Laughing quietly, Prometheus leaned over the boy, his eyes scanning over the boy's ravaged form. "This will only hurt a lot," he mocked quietly, but also telling the truth. Prometheus sluggishly drilled a spike into his prisoner's left wrist, taking the time to make it pain the young man even more. Tears welled up in the young man's eyes. He couldn't help but to let a whimper escape, Prometheus sickening smile grew wider. A loud _snap_ echoed across the tiny room as the spike broke the young man's left wrist bone. Blood oozed out of the hole, the flow getting heavier with each passing moment. The spike continued to painstakingly slowly drive into his wrist. He was about to scream outwards, expressing how much the agony tortured him. But, to Prometheus' disappointment, he held it in, refusing to show weakness.

After the spike finally impaled the table, Prometheus stopped driving it through his wrist. The boy looked at him, his eyes filled with unshed tears. The pain filled orbs threating to spill the tears from their earthly colored prison. Prometheus growled, upset that the boy didn't cry out at the pain he was feeling. Prometheus silently cursed. The older man circled him, his eyes regarding the boy's ravaged form. The boy casted his gaze downwards, his eyes looking at the stained floor as Prometheus studied him with a thoughtful look on his face.

Prometheus drove the three other spikes into him. One went into his right wrist, one went into his right ankle, and the last one went into his left ankle all went in at the same agonizing drawn-out pace as the first one. Each one caused him pure anguish. The tears he held were barely continued, threating to spill over at any moment. His breath was ragged and his heartbeat was erratic. His face was contorted into one of pain and fear. His lips were pursed, denying the tiniest of cries to escape his cracked lips.

After Prometheus finished with all the spikes, he made the table lay straight up and down instead of going flat across from left to right. The boy instantly sagged as his muscles gave way to his weight. The spikes only allowed so much sagging. The boy's sinewy muscles slowly relaxed. Sweat beaded the boy's flushed face. His matted brown hair clung to his forehead. Little wisps of hair flying outwards in an undisciplined fashion. His hard eyes bored into Prometheus' glowing violet eyes. They were filled with smugness and loathing. Prometheus' hand slammed into his cheek. Prometheus watched as the boy's skin spilt apart, blood leaking out of the new wound. They boy turned his face around, Prometheus knocking it around with his forceful slap, and stared into Prometheus' eyes.

Prometheus smirked and turned around, walking back towards the shelf of torturing mechanisms. A few seconds later, Prometheus returned. A plain looking leather whip was resting in the palm of Prometheus' hand. The old man's thin fingers curled around it protectively. Prometheus' eyes fondly eyed the whip, his eyes held it softly as if it were a baby. Prometheus' eyes were full of admiration and love. But still, even with those soft eyes, a mocking sneer was plastered onto his face.

The older man uncoiled the whip, revealing how truly painful this next afflict would be. Sharp, jagged pieces of glass were wrapped tightly within the thin cloth. The shards most pointed ends jutted outwards. He gulped, knowing what was going to happen. When the whip made contact, Prometheus would unhurriedly drag it across his back. It would cause deep gashes to form and cause more pain also. It would be an excruciating experience.

Prometheus ripped off the boy's torn tunic, exposing the tan, sinewy muscles. Prometheus licked his lips, which had suddenly turned dried, with the exciting prospect of marring this boy's body. The old man firmly held the whip, positioning it over the boy's bare abdomen. The older man's arm, in slow motion, came downwards. The whip connected with his skin. Prometheus smiled his hand moving sluggishly, allowing the young man's body to feel the burn. Prometheus lashed him over and over until the young man's entire chest and stomach area was covered in blood and deep cuts. It took all his self-control not to scream outwards, for the pain was slowly driving him mad. After about a hundred lashes, Prometheus deemed it time to stop. He placed the whip back on the shelf. Prometheus moved back in front of him, his eyes gleaming with a federal look in them.

Prometheus laid a thin, bony hand on his side, where his ribs were dying with agony. Prometheus pressed down, eliciting a cry of agony from the boy. His head exploded with the amount of pain. The boy's ribs protested, making him feel pure suffering. His breathing staggered, and his heartbeat grew even more unsteady. Black dots danced across his vision, he was on the verge of passing out. Tears trekked down his face; he couldn't hold them anymore, for the pain was slowly killing him. Prometheus smirked, happy at finally getting a rise out of the boy. A demented chuckle escaped Prometheus' lips as his hand moved to the boy's other side. Prometheus pressed downwards, but this time harder. The boy's ribs snapped effortlessly in half. More shrieks of misery tore through the boy's lips. His eyes shedding even more tears as they freely flowed down his face.

"Are you feeling the pain? Is it burning like fire? I swear I'll make you wish you were never born. I swear it." Prometheus vowed with fervor. His eyes sweeping over the boy's broken and bloodied form. The violet orbs instilled fear like never before in him. Prometheus had made him scream bloody murder with pure, twisted anguish. Prometheus abused his body until it couldn't handle it anymore. Prometheus was just getting started, and the boy found no light at the end of the tunnel. "We're done for today, but I'll be recollecting you tomorrow," he promised, Prometheus violet eyes glowing with silent affirmation. The boy's body twitched as it registered what was to come tomorrow.

Prometheus, none too gently, ripped the spikes out. The holes gushing with pent up blood. Prometheus threw the spikes somewhere, not bothering to clean them of the gore accumulating on them. Prometheus let the boy hit the ground, an agonized groan leaving the boy's lips as he tried to stand, but failed to do so. Prometheus hooked a hand behind the boy's neck, hauling him from the room. He dragged him down the deserted corridor. Prometheus threw him into his cell, waiting until he hit the floor before following him in. Prometheus chained him up, making sure it was good and tight before leaving with a last jeering grin and demented chuckle.

Now, after Prometheus tortured him, both sides ached with unsurpassable discomfort. His mind was spinning like crazy, his eyes gaining a misty look in them. His chocolate depths were filled to the brim with inconceivable pain. Both sides throbbed with implausible agony. Murkiness coated his mind with fervor. Dark, ghostly figures emerged and reached out for him. Their translucent white fingers twitching like they were wanting to hold something. One finger in particular caught his eye, it was a lone finger-sticking straight up-and it beckoned to him. He moved his hand forward, enchanted by the shimmering appendage. With a tad bit of hesitance and fear, his hand continued forwards waiting for something to reach out and grab it. Suddenly, as his hand grew only a few mere inches away from the iridescent finger, something black and strong grabbed his hand. The dark clutches tore him away from the glowing whiteness. He screamed out in protest, but it was feeble, for the dark fingers had already warped him out of there.

The black fingers deposited him on a rocky bluff. He saw water crashing against the jagged rocks. The wind whipped his long hair around his face, causing it to obstruct his eyesight. The wind continued to howl, showing no signs of dying down. To his left was a steep hill, leading to the crashing waves and pointy rocks. Over to his right, however, was the mouth of a cave. Deciding to take shelter, he headed towards the cave, this time watching for any dark things that could be floating around. He neared the cave with no sign of the black fingers.

He entered the cave with caution, who knows what was lurking in its murky depths. A chilly gust of air blasted him, making him stumble backwards a couple of steps. He crossed his arms and held them out in front of him to block the wind. After a few moments, the chilly gusts quieted down, allowing him to move forwards. He shivered as goose-bumps appeared on his arms. He was wearing a thin, sleeveless brown tunic, but this one wasn't torn to bits and pieces. He looked downwards, noticing he was wearing airy black leggings. They allotted little to no protection against the harsh wind.

He resumed heading forwards; his mind set on finding out was hiding in this cave. He came to a fork, one had a lit passage, and the other didn't. He proceeded down the lit one, so he could see easier. He pressed his trembling fingers against the wall of the cave, feeling the slim of it rubbing off onto his hand. After a few more steps, he came to a wide berth in the cave. A small fire was flickering, lighting the cave walls with mysterious beauty. Carvings of all kinds were etched into the cave walls. Some showed people, and some showed houses, some showed animals, and the others were things he had never seen before.

Looking back at the fire, he noticed a man sitting there. The man's hands were hoisted over the fire, rubbing together for warmth. The man's face and body was hidden by a thick, dark cloak. The hood was drawn, concealing the mystery man's face. A brittle laugh came out of the man, his shoulders moving with his chuckles. He stared at the man like he was insane, which he was. They were in a cave, cold, with no sign of help.

"Come here," the man ordered with a weak voice. The man's gloved hands motioned him to come over to where the odd man was sitting. When he didn't move the man told him crossly. "Didn't you hear me boy? I said come over here!" the man questioned and demanded at the same time, his voice rising slightly. This time he walked over, his eyes observing the man's hidden body. He noted that the cloak was huge on him, and his body was thin and weak looking. His voice, too, gave away the man's old age. The weird man may speak confidently, but his voice shook with old age.

"There much better," the man muttered approvingly. "Was that so damn hard?" the weird man asked, his hidden face moving to face him. He couldn't make out a face or even some eyes, nothing but untainted darkness under the drawn hood.

"N-n-no," he stuttered out, his voice shaking with fear. The man gave a hearty laugh, his gloved hand slapping his knee with pure mirth. That confused him. Why was the old man laughing? Maybe the fool was insane just like he assumed he was.

"You haven't a reason to fear little old me," the man soothed, his laughter abiding, making it difficult to understand him. "I want do a damn thing to you," the man continued to reassure him, as he resumed his chuckling fits. "I'm actually here to help you." the mystery man stated with certainty. The odd man's laughter disappeared when he spoke that last sentence. The man was absolutely serious. "Do you trust me?" the man questioned with fear outlining it. Why is he scared? I don't even know him, he thought.

"No, not really." he managed to murmur after a long pause. A dishearten sigh escaped the man's lips, his head bowing forwards. Looking at the ground, the man spoke in little whispers. He couldn't understand a word he was saying, but tried to anyways.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the weird man said like it was the boy's own fault. "I'll leave you be, I won't bother you until you call me again." the man commented after a few moments. He stood upwards, his robe hitting the ground and shifting around him with a soft cry.

"Wait!" he shouted out, his voice tight with fear. "How will I call you?" he asked, wanting to know the figure's name before he left. The man didn't answered he just continued onwards, not once looking back over his shoulder to answer his question.

"You will know how when the time comes. You will have to trust me fully next time though." the walking man answered over his shoulder, his voice sounded farther away than it should have sounded. With a gust of wind, the man dissolved into the inky blackness, his black cloak hiding him within it.

When a few seconds of stunned silence passed, a black shadow descended down and scooped him up. This time he didn't fight it, for he knew it was pointless. It dropped him on a grassy plain. The plain was covered in blooming flowers of all kinds, their colorful, vibrant buds popping out of the ground. A strange sensation of tranquility overcame him. His eyes closed and he fell deeper within his own mind.

No more images intruded his sleeping time, his mind relatively quiet. He rested peacefully. No more ghostly, translucent fingers beckoning or picking him up. It was nice and quiet. But that didn't last long, for a loud _bang_ echoedwithin the confines of his mind.

He was roughly shaken awake, a dark robed figure towering over him. Deep blue eyes greeted him. A mane of black hair dusted over the man's forehead, which was covered in sweat like he ran all the way down here. The man had a strange mark on his hand, one like he had on his own hand. He didn't know what it meant, but he had a peculiar feeling that this unknown man did.

"Brother."

**A/N (2): 3,314 words not including the beginning and ending author's note. I'm proud of myself! **

**I hope you liked this chapter. It took a while to get it posted. I'm sorry about that, but I don't update fast or regularly. That is why I'll tell you this: I won't tell you when to expect the next update, for even I don't know when that will happen. **

**I have to write essays almost every week for English. He loves to make us write. I usually don't do mind until the night before it's due. Plus, they're almost always on boring topics and they're reflective essays. I hate writing about myself, I'm not that interesting. **

**Also, I have soccer season coming up soon, so I'll be outside running and conditioning for it. I'm excited about it. Piano lessons are also a big take up time. Along with homework and chores around the house, I don't have much free time to write, but I still do. It's how my emotions come out and it helps me relax when I'm stressed plum out. Which happens a lot, especially lately with all that's going on in my life.**

**So, yeah, don't expect timed and regular updates. Sorry if this inconveniences some of you. I hope you keep reading my story!**

**Anyways, I hope you ejoyed this installment!**

**Please drop me a review! It gives me the motivation to write!**

**Thanks a ton!**

**Here are the thanks for the first chapter!**

_soarlikeaneagle: Thanks for reviewing! Here's your update!_

_IronMikeTyson: Thanks for the review, I hope you enjoy where it goes!_

_ : Thanks for reviewing. Oops...I have to include him in this. Why don't you want Murtagh in this? Now for the Saphira question. Well, you'll just have to wait and see!_

_artemisia81: Thanks for reviewing. You may be right about the sequences! __**How did they catch him? **__That answer will come in due time! _

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Also, thanks to those who added this as their favorite story, or alert list. And thank you to those who added me as a favorite author! I'm grateful for all of this! It makes me cry! (In a good way!)**

**I'll see you all again soon!**

**Have good morning, afternoon, evening, or night!**

**Rock out!**

**Arya Rocks! **


	3. Chapter 2: A Meeting and a Outburst

**A/N: Hello again! Yes, it has been awhile, I'll explain that at the bottom! But anyways:**

**On with the chapter!**

**Today's allusion: **_"But you did everything you could, and when you could do no more, you made peace with your fate, and you didn't rail needlessly against it. That is wisdom, not weakness." Inheritance pg. 49, What Is A Man. Katrina to Roran. _

**I find this quote pretty wise, especially coming from Katrina! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. I just add my twisted two cents in there. CP owns it, I don't. So don't sue me for no reason!**

**Warning: The characters in this chapter are major OOC, but it was called for!**

**Another warning: This is my first POV besides Eragon. It's a Nasuada POV. So, yes, it may suck. But it's my first try. **

**Chapter 2: A Meeting and an Outburst**

Nasuada peered out into the night. The twinkling stars glittered against the pitch black backdrop. Some stars seemed to shine more brightly than others. Somewhere off in the distance, tucked away in the dark forest, a lone wolf howled. Sadness pouring off the tone of said howl. A full moon, partially hidden behind steely clouds, glowed. White, translucent beams shot outwards, lighting up little patches of land. Still, most of the ground remained covered in an inky blackness.

Once more, another howl pierced the night air. Displaying all of the wolf's sadness, and loneliness, the magnitude of the sad timbre was enough to break Nasuada's heart. A hand crept forwards, slowly working its way up to her rapidly beating heart. Her vision was suddenly blurred as tears gathered in her dark eyes. Not a few moments later, Nasuada felt something hot and wet crawling down her cheek. The hand not clutching her heart wiped away her tears. The wetness coated her finger. Nasuada looked at her finger, studying the crystal tear that had fallen.

Nasuada's mood matched the wolf's mood. Depression was lodged deeply in her heart. Fear ran tempestuous throughout her pounding veins. More tears fell down her face. They refused to stop, which bothered Nasuada greatly. How could she control her fellow warriors when she could hardly control her own emotions? No, she couldn't. Nasuada needed to stay strong, for herself and for the Varden. Nasuada was steadfast on not showing her apprehension and depression, especially in front of the Varden. Worry, too, filled her mind. It wasn't has strong as the fear and sadness, but it was lurking in there. Fear sought to control, to make her perform imprudent decisions. Sadness sought to drown her in hopelessness, which is something she couldn't afford to do. Worry, however, gave her the fire to move forwards. It was odd how that lone emotion could affect her so. Nasuada was intent on dethroning Galbatorix, even if it sucked the life out of her. She would gladly, and swiftly, give Galbatorix her head on a silver platter if that meant no more fighting. If it was the key for eradicating Galbatorix from the throne forever, if it would help some lives to be spared. But, unfortunately, that wasn't so-not even close.

Nasuada glanced at the Nighthawks that encompassed her resting tent. It was a dark, velvet color, unlike her bright crimson tent. Two dwarfs and two Urgals stood vigilant, their faces showing no hint of emotion. They were wiped smoothly down. One Urgal held a large ax, its sharp end gleaming in the moon's light. It had a metal rod connecting to the sharp blade. It curved, jagged edge making it look even more sinister than it really was. The other Urgal had a small, wooden shield, with a crude looking dagger snugly fitted around its waist. A bow rested comfortably against the Urgal's back, a quiver blocking the bow-aside the tips of it-from view.

A dwarf, who had shiny silver hair, had a hammer. It was bigger than Stronghammer's one, but yet didn't look as menacing. It was a dull gray color, and it blended well with the dark aura of the night. The other dwarf, who had pitch black hair, had a blade taped to his waist. It hung loosely, unlike the Urgal's dagger did. The black headed dwarf noticed her staring, obviously, at him. He strode up to her, his beard swaying lightly with his gait.

"Milady, may I ask why you are not yet asleep. For you said you were tired during your evening meeting with the councilmen. Are you ill?" the dwarf asked with concern, his tone softening with each word that tumbled forwards out of his rugged looking mouth. He studied her as he waited patiently for her reply.

"No, I am not ill; I just seem to be rather restless." Nasuada admitted, her tone leaving no room for augment. But fate seemed not to smile upon her, for the dwarf continued his line of questioning, reminding her strangely of Eragon.

"If you are unwell I can ask Angela or one of our healers to come to your aid," his guttural voice rattled outwards. His eyes raked over her form, looking for any indication of an impending sickness. "I'll even deliver the message myself," he spoke, breaking the heavy silence. The dwarf fisted his hand over his heart, bowing to her. "I'll take leave right now, I believe no one will mind." he said hastily, turning to leave before she grabbed him by the shoulder, halting his progress much to his dismay and fury. He turned to her, his mouth open, but she quickly cut him off.

"You did not listen to a word I said," Nasuada sighed exasperated, her hand rubbing small circles on her forehead. "I'm not ill," she repeated more slowly this time, making sure the rash dwarf listened to her this time. She was pleased when she saw he was listening intently, not missing a single beat of her voice. "I just can't seem to sleep." she concluded softly. "But I do thank you for your concern, what is your name, if I may ask."

"Kemnebi," Kemnebi replied swiftly, his voice held a note of pride. "Excuse me, milady, for my terrible display of listening skills, which are apparently lacking at the moment." Kemnebi said mockingly, but it wasn't directed towards her, no, it was directed towards himself instead. "I cry pardon from you for my mishap," he quickly said, condemning himself under his smooth, steady breathing.

"No cry for pardon needed," she replied, her voice pitching a tune of dismissiveness. Her eyes were black as night, and dark rings settled beneath them. Her cheeks were pulled taunt against her dark toned skin. "I'm sorry for snapping so suddenly," she apologized, knowing she had snapped at him rather unfairly. Kemnebi was just worried about her state of being, she was grateful for that. "Leave and join the others, I am perfectly fine, and tell your companions that also." Nasuada order, her voice commanding and authoritative.

"Yes, milady," Kemnebi bowed and strolled back at a leisurely pace to his place with her other guards. His face lost all the emotion that had once been present as he drew closer to the other guards. "Oh, I'll tell the others, too." he called back over his shoulder, his long braid shifting slightly.

Nasuada ducked back into her tent, not wanting a replay of what happened with Kemnebi, for she was exhausted, but seemed so restless. A taper flickered on her desk. Books were piled atop the desk. Stacks of scrolls neatly tucked away, some letters that had yet to been opened sat on her desk, their various seals calling out to her. Nasuada shook her head, and went over to the desk. She flipped through the books that mounted her desk in phenomenal heaps. Some piles were so tall they loomed over the desk precariously, threating to tip over the edge at any given moment. Nasuada didn't feel like picking them up if they did, therefore-to save her some trouble-she arranged them in more reasonable stacks. Making sure none leaned even the tiniest amount. After she completed that task, she walked over to her cot.

Lying down, Nasuada stared at the woolen material that hung above her. Her hands clasped together at the base of her chest, hovering slightly above it as they barely rested upon her chest. Releasing a soft, aggravated sigh, Nasuada shifted into a more comfortable position. Still it did no use. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get situated. Her back was either crying out in protest, or her arms slipped off the side of the cot. Giving up once again, Nasuada stood, stretching outwards, her arms reaching towards the top of the tent.

Walking over to the wooden table that occupied the center of the room, Nasuada rubbed her eyes tiredly. No rest for me tonight, Nasuada thought to herself, her breathing steady, but her heartbeat was unsteady. Suddenly, Nasuada had an epiphany. Worry halted her from resting easily. Tomorrow, at early morn, a congregation would be held. They would discuss their position, and debate their next plan of action. Seeing as they had lost their rider, actually he was captured by the Empire. Thinking about that Nasuada, once again, was sucked into a vortex of downward spiraling depression and hopelessness.

Her heart thudded painfully, recalling how it felt to see Eragon hauled off to that damnable castle. That bastard, King Galbatorix, resided there. Nasuada's hands clenched together, forming small fists. Galbatorix ruled the entire country with an iron fist, he was an insane tyrant. And, sadly, Eragon was carried off to that terrible castle. Where he was probably being tortured at this very moment by the king himself or someone just as awful. That saddened Nasuada, knowing that when their rider return-if he did-, he would be a broken, empty shell of himself. His eyes would lose that warm spark that was always presence, even on the cloudiest of days.

Nasuada had seen the hopeless looks upon her fellow soldiers' faces as Eragon was captured and taken to that hell hole. The soldiers' faces were black with despair, and waves of fear rolled off them. Some soldiers roared out anguished cries of lost and defeat, while some broken down and moaned at the loss of their hope…Their spark of fire. They had lost something tremendously valuable to them. They had all lost their hope. They lost their spark. They lost the flame that guided them through the dark tunnels of hopelessness. They had lost everything they stood for. The Varden's pride was stomped, shredded, and crushed to tiny, insignificant tatters. This in turn, caused the troops to lose their faith in their purpose.

Nasuada sat down, making sure to sit slowly down. One time, being foolish, she had hurried to sit down and had fallen passed the chair and onto the dirt floor, which wasn't very cozy. She had uttered a quiet curse, vowing to make sure she actually sat upon the stool next, and every, time. If it were to happen in her crimson command tent, well, to put it simple, it would cause mortification that would haunt Nasuada's for her entire life. That thought alone painted a light blush across her dark cheeks. A slight, weary chuckle escaped her lips. It was comical to envision herself falling onto her arse in front of her council, but it would be embarrassing also. Nasuada shook her head ruefully, a louder chuckle prying from her parted lips. Waves and waves of laughter exploded forth from her gaping lips as she gasped for breath. Soon, after a heavy moment of unrelenting laughter, her sides shook and Nasuada held them tightly as her giggling fit started fresh once again. For long moments her chuckles broke free, floating into the dark atmosphere. Nasuada's mood heightened considerably. She felt strangely lighten as if an oppressive weight had been lifted from her shoulders and placed upon another's shoulders.

Suddenly, seeing as it had been a long time, Nasuada glanced outside her tent. Long beams of pink light dusted over the furnishings of her tent. Nasuada peeled away her tent flap, squinting as the sun's rays collided with her eyes. The dawn's bright pinkish light broke forth from atop the clouds. It radiated pure beauty, its bright light shining in utter glory. Nasuada noticed new guards standing motionless around her tent. The night watchers had return to their tents, looking forwards to a day of rest. Nasuada quickly changed out of her night attire into something more formal. She slipped on a lavender dress.

Nasuada sauntered out her tent, biding her guards good morning. Nasuada looked refreshed, even though she didn't sleep a bit last night. Her face seemed to glow, while others faces gleamed with unmatchable despair. They gazed at her, their eyes screaming she was insane. Her hair was pinned in an intricate bun, with two lone strands tickling each of her cheeks. Nasuada noticed the looks and swiftly replaced her happy visage with a masked emotionless one. Nasuada had practiced her stone wall face and had grown better at it with each passing day. It had helped her in many ways. Her fear and worry wouldn't show up in her facial features. Her eyes, however, were a different story. Eyes were hard to control, for they were windows to the soul. Nasuada's eyes appeared to shout out everything she was feeling. Sometimes Nasuada wished she could control her eyes like the elven ambassador, Arya, could. The raven haired elf had a knack for keeping her emotions under tightly bound wraps. Hardly, if ever, has Nasuada seen her lose control over her emotions as well as her voice. Arya's voice was always void of emotion. The emerald eyes always had a stone barricade built up.

Nasuada continued to trek to her command tent, her guards hot on her heels. Their eyes scanned for a potential danger or threat. People gazed at Nasuada with forlorn faces, their eyes held an eerie sadness to them. Their faces were ashen and downtrodden as they stared at her with endless depths of lost faith. The Varden's silent pleas of desperation called out to her, seizing her heart in an unbreakable grip. Their grim faces haunted Nasuada, making her happiness fade into heart wrenching desolation. Her white bubble of joy now stained black. Her stomach twisted painfully, making Nasuada's right arm quickly wrap around it protectively. Her stomach knotted with fear and demoralization.

When the crimson tent loomed over the horizon, Nasuada felt a twinge of apprehension wash over her. Nasuada's mask of serenity almost slipped, almost exposing her emotions to the onlookers who followed her every step. Nasuada was disturbed by the almost slip, but quickly pushed it away, not wanting to worry about it. She had too many worries on her chest already, no need to add another one. Nasuada made sure her calm mask was still in check when she reached the entrance to the red tent.

Shoving the tent flap aside, Nasuada walked forwards, her eyes looking around the interior of the tent. It was empty. Nasuada was a few minutes early, wanting to prepare herself before meeting with the many councilmen. The Nighthawks, too, entered behind her. Nasuada took her seat at the head of the grand oak table. Ten chairs made out of oak surrounded the table, allowing everybody to have a chair to sit in. An enlarged map of Alagaësia rested in the center of the table, some of the map hung off the edge of the table on the left and right sides. The map was tattered and worn but still useable. It had aided them in many battles, providing them a way to map out their movements and battle situations. It, too, provided them with a chance for gaining the upper hand, if they positioned themselves just right.

Nasuada's guards took their positions, some standing a few away from her side, and some loitering behind her. The Nighthawks' faces were all void of emotion, just like her. Except, their eyes were controlled, but hers wasn't. Nasuada practiced her speech over in her head. It had become a mantra. After satisfied that her speech was flawless, or maybe nearly flawless, Nasuada concentrated on the problem at hand. Nasuada knew her announcement to the council would shock them and anger them, but she still had to do it. It would make them all furious, especially Arya. However much she may like to avoid a furious elf, Nasuada just couldn't do it. Nasuada hoped that Arya would keep her fury under wraps, but that seem unlikely. But, nevertheless, Nasuada was ready.

After a few more moments of alone time, the councilmen entered-or those who were appearing in a mirror that lined along the woolen walls of the spacious tent had their forms shimmer to life. Orrin, the king of Surda, took a seat to her right, his face grim and his hair in wild disarray. The Urgal chief, Garzhvog, took a seat at the very end of the table, his bulky mass shook the table as he sat-his face, too, grim. Orik, the dwarf king, appeared in a mirror on the left side, his expression showing anguish at losing his adopted brother. Islanzadí, the elven queen, appeared in another mirror, her face displaying no emotion at all. Islanzadí and Nasuada were the only ones who were not wearing a grim or forlorn expression. A few seconds later, Jӧrmundur came stumbling in. His face was stone cold, but a sorrowful look tinted his eyes. Jӧrmundur's arms were filled with scrolls and books. They looked heavy, and a loud _clang _followed suit as he dropped them onto the table.

He took his seat. Now all they were missing was Arya. Just as she thought that, Arya came strolling in. Arya's face was masked with a stone barricade; her emerald eyes were dead and hollow. Arya took her seat, indicating the start of the inevitable. All eyes looked at Nasuada, imploring her to spill what she was planning on doing. Taking a deep, calming breath: Nasuada began-knowing this would outright shock and infuriate them, but it must be done. Nasuada was completely ready to receive the furious shouts and whatever they threw at her.

But, just to stall the unavoidable, Nasuada asked. "Where is Saphira?" Her question was mainly pointed towards Arya, for she was the only one who had seen the sapphire dragon.

"Mourning her lost on the highest peak of the Beor Mountains," Arya stated indifferently, the hollow look to her eyes grew more apparent. "I tried to reason with her, but she would not hear of it." Arya explained, hoping for them to understand why the dragon was absent from such an important meeting. This meeting would tell her what they planned to do about her captured rider. "She decided to stay put and continue to bathe in her grief." Arya finished, her voice disappearing.

"I see," Nasuada murmured, her voice barely heard. "Well, I do have an announcement. This will anger some-probably all-of you. But I see it fit." she stated in a firm voice, not allowing her fear to color her tone. She needed to be strong.

All eyes were looking intently at her now, waiting for her decision to pry from her lips. Arya looked at her the most intently though. "We will not be recusing Eragon." Nasuada swiftly spat out, not wanting to beat around the bush. The gathered council looked at her in confusion, their minds muddled.

It was Orrin who broke the silence. "W-w-what did you say," he stammered out, his voice sounding disbelieving.

"I said," Nasuada began. "We will not be recusing Eragon." This time she said it slower to get the point across.

All at once yelling broke out. Then all hell froze over. One shout above the others, for it was delivered with such a deadly iciness that it made Nasuada's stomach knot in fear.

"What," Arya seethed, her teeth clenched together, as if she was trying not to bust. "What did you say," Arya continued when she gained her control back, but a hint of coldness still colored her melodious voice.

"I'm not repeating myself," Nasuada stated, refusing to show an ounce of fear toward the elf that had spoken out.

Suddenly, Arya stood up, harshly shoving her chair away from her. "Are you insane?" Arya shouted at her, her voice rising with each word. "Eragon is our only hope. We _have_ to rescue him." Arya said, emphasizing the word have. "We will be defenseless and would surely lose to the mad king." The elven ambassador continued her rant, her hair moving wildly around her as she paced back and forth in front of them. "I will not allow him to be tortured." Arya vowed, her voice daring anybody to challenge her. "He's protecting us by not telling Galbatorix a single word. He's being tortured for not speaking up. I will not stand by while Eragon suffers at the hands of that bastard." Arya seethed, her hands forming fist. Arya's eyes flashed dangerously with unmatchable fury. Nasuada opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off. "No! I don't want to hear your excuses!" Arya interjected loudly, her voice shaking with anger. "We will rescue Eragon, I will personally see to it!" Arya shrieked, her voice losing all control.

Nasuada had finally reached the breaking point. "No we will not!" Nasuada shouted, halting Arya's impressive, uncontrolled rant. The elf stopped, looking at Nasuada with pure shock and fury. "Arya, I'm sorry, but we will not be rescuing Eragon." Nasuada continued, gaining her calm wits again.

That only seemed to anger Arya more. "If I were you, I wouldn't open my mouth." Nasuada declared coldly, her voice icy and frigid. Arya's mouth closed instantly. "I know you wished to save him, so do I, but we cannot." she concluded.

Arya shook her head and stormed out of the command tent, leaving a wake of shocked speechlessness behind her. Nasuada sighed deeply before looking at the other people in the room. Orik looked mad, but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. The rest of them were looking at the fluttering tent flap. Stunned looks etched into her faces. Even Islanzadí gazed at the entrance to the tent with a stunned expression. That's a record, Nasuada commented to herself. Two elves showing emotion, while not on the battlefield, in one day was a rare sight.

"Anybody else wish to question my choice," Nasuada asked calmly, but fuming on the inside from the Arya's outburst. Nasuada was surprised that the elf showed such an outright display of her emotions. Nasuada thought it take more than that to rile the elven ambassador.

A chorus of no's echoed through the tent, and Nasuada was appeased with their answers. She wasn't in the mood for anybody else's complaints. "On with the meeting then," she muttered quietly, her voice almost swallowed up by the air within the tent.

And on with the meeting they did. Talking about everything and planned their next course of action. After everything had been settled, and everybody gone, Nasuada headed back to her own tent. Being mindful of a furious Arya coming to confront her about her choice, but Arya was nowhere to be found, which she was grateful for.

Nasuada collapsed on her cot, inside her tent, Nasuada yawned loudly. Weariness seeped into her and her eyes drifted shut. The void of last night's sleep made her succumb quicker to the clutches of sleep. Nasuada slipped into the realm of dreams.

**A/N: 3, 767 words long! Oh yeah! Sorry about the long wait. I've nonstop been going to different doctors. I have something wrong with my collarbone, and it's not a factor or break. Then, after all the shit with the doctor, my grandmother went to the hospital. I had to stay the night with a friend, and she made me help her study for her driver's permit test. Then I stayed the night with a close friend of my mom's and her little girl played with my hair all night-we also played the Wii. **

**Anyways, I hope you liked it. Yes, I know that the characters were OCC, but in this chapter it was called for. Sorry if this angers some of you! But it couldn't be helped. **

**So, yeah, sorry about the wait, but that, too, couldn't be helped. **

**Please drop me a review, I love them! Please tell me how I did at my Nasuada's POV! First time I tried her, so I apologize if it sucks! Tell me if I should write another, or not to! **

**Thanks to reviewers:**

_Restrained. Freedom: I love M&T too! I hated CP for freeing them (I actually loved that part), but then making them disappear (this is the part I hated). You'll have to wait to see if it was fictitious trick, or it was genuine. Yes, he has no clue to who he is. I owe you an apology. I typed you name, but then it got deleted for some reason, but I did have it in front of it! So sorry about that! Thanks for reviewing, again!_

_The ghost who walks: Thanks for reviewing! And welcome to my story! I read my story over three times to make sure there are no mistakes. I don't find any. I post it on Fanfiction, tons jump out at me! I get so frustrated. But thanks for pointing that out! _

_Bluestargirl1: Thanks for reviewing. Welcome to my story! I'm glad you like it! I'm no CP! But thanks for the compliment! _

**Also, thanks to all that reviewed. You guys are totally awesome! Also, thanks to those who added my story to their favorite or alert list! Also, thanks those who added me to their favorite author's list! I'm crying right now! **

**Have a good morning, afternoon, evening, or night!**

**May you live happily,**

**Arya Rocks! **


	4. Chapter 3: Ablaze

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update! I apologize in advance for that! I was super busy, electric went off, and internet shut down for a while. Had to work in order to buy a new laptop. Anyways, I'll keep this short and sweet so you can get to reading! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. If I did, Eragon wouldn't have been so immature. **

**Oh, almost forgot! **

**Quote of the day: **_**"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently?" ~Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) **_

**Awesome writer right there! I love **_**Alice in Wonderland**_** and **_**Through the Looking Glass**_**! **

**This is a Murtagh POV! **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 3: Ablaze**

Reality sluggishly receded, fashioning into something completely different. Reality became fantasy and fantasy became reality. The world seemed to tip and spin, creating a whole new vision. His eyes blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what was happening. Dull, insipid colors painted his dark, depressed mind. His mind was slowly turning reality to fantasy, shaping a whole new outlook for him. He was befuddled beyond belief, his mind not understanding what was happening. Reality was slowly twisting and spinning into something unfathomable.

Suddenly, the colors busted out lustrous and shimmering. Flashes of bright green, splotches of blinding yellow, sparkling hues of blue and crimson red danced on the edge. They danced around him like they were alive. He swore he could make out tiny people within the various arrays of hues of each color. He heard the gurgle of a stream. He heard the twittering songs of birds. A distinct munching of grass, which was strange. The colors shifted and glowed even brighter. More and more noises engulfed his senses.

He could smell the aromas of flowers. The smell of fresh, green grass joined the flowers' scent. He could smell the water that rushed through the sloshing stream. So many kinds of scents overwhelmed his nose, making him coughed violently. Fits of coughs hacked through his body, making him double over. But he didn't mind, not a little bit. It was nice, he felt free. He felt like nothing or nobody could touch him here. It was like his own personal paradise.

He could feel the refreshing zephyr that blasted pass him. He could the silky softness of the grass below him. He could feel the tiny blades give way beneath him as his muscular build suppressed them downwards, making them bend. He could feel the water that sprayed him with a light mist. He experienced the bubble of serene happiness that veiled over him, protecting him from anything dangerous and threating. He felt the sun's rays as they created soothing warmth. It crawled across his skin, warming him.

He could taste the flavor of the flowers' scent. He could taste the salty tang to the water as small droplets landed in his mouth, which he opened wide for that particular reason. He could taste the sunshine. It soaked through his face, its fingers embracing him in their unmatchable warmth and comfort. He felt alive. Passion like never before pumped through his once frozen veins, now setting ablaze with a newfound passion. His heart was now beating with a newborn fervor. It was so strong that it knocked the breath out of him, sending him stumbling a few steps back.

The sound of waves crashing against rocks met his sensitive ears. The wind howled past, echoing inside his ear. The sound of water sloshing over a rocky waterfall met his ears also. The sound of birds twittering rang outwards, enveloping the forest in a bright, fast paced song. Branches clashed together, creating a screeching sound, making him wince lightly. The birds' singing picked up. The beat was now raging at a speedy tempo. His ears strained to hear the sound, wanting it to fill his entire body with its warmth and comfort tones.

His eyes were still sealed tightly shut, blocking out the sun's harsh rays. Cracking an eye open, he peered into the clearing for the first time. Seeing that it wasn't horrible or transformed into something more gruesome, he opened both eyes as far as he could. He wanted to catch a glimpse of everything within the beautiful tranquil meadow.

Yellow, red, pink, purple, blue, white, and black flowers popped out of the ground. A shockwave of luminous, vivid hues rocked the green meadow. His eyes moved upwards, seeking out the source of the warmth that encompassed his entire being. The sun was positioned in the middle of the sky. Fluffy, white puffs of clouds dotted the sky. None of them hid the radiant sun from view. It was a glorious sight, especially for someone like him. Someone who hasn't seen the sun in a while for now, he thought grimly to himself. He bathed within its tight, unyielding passionate embrace. His heart thundered inside the caverns of his chest, threating to leap out and dance across the ground.

His arms were spread wide opened like he was going to accept a friendly hug from a distant friend. His matted, raven hair flew wildly around him. The front of his hair, the part that was the least matted, pushed against his forehead. The wind whipped it around like a feather. His eyes drifted back downwards, taking in a small stream just a few short steps from him. It babbled as its smooth tendrils of water cascaded over the rocks that jutted outwards here and there.

Then, unexpectedly, it altered into something different, something much worse. The cool zephyr that went by that bathed in a relaxing breeze, now became like a stone cold hand, chilling him to the core. The lively and vibrant meadow had turned lifeless and dull. The birds had disappeared, and the blooming flowers were wilted and dead. Their leaves hanging in an ugly brown color that indicated that they died a long time ago. The roaring river was now still and unmoving, froze over by the freezing temperature. The green trees were also like the flowers, dead and wilted.

White flakes of puffy balls coated the ground, leaving no little bit of ground untouched. For a split second he felt fury. He was furious that all that beautiful scenery had turned into something as horrid as this. The vivacious trees and flowers were now insipid. The wind howled past again, causing him to shiver. More slushy snow fell from the steel clouds, fluttering down to the dead ground below. More snow accumulated and piles of snow soon grew to be pretty tall. Branches that attached to the trunk of the tree were now covered in wet, white snow. Hitting a tree with his fist, the snow fell, landing with a 'thump'. Shaking his head in sorrow, he kept moving forwards. He figured now was a good time to find shelter.

In the far distance, billowing in the wind, was a black cloak. He darted towards it, hoping that it would provide warmth. He stopped in front of the raven robe. Inspecting it for holes or tears, he was glad to have found none. Gripping the cloak, he gently removed it as not to tear a hole in it. After it was clear to move it without ripping it, he slung it over his shoulders. A simple, golden clasp held the robe together. He quickly clasped it, making sure it was tight. The moment he was securely in the robe, a wave of warmth seized him. He was delighted that the cloak was warmer than it appeared to be. Noticing that there was a hood, he flicked it over his head, hiding his face from the ruthless biting wind.

The end of the cloak barely brushed the snow covered surface as he continued to stroll aimlessly in the dense, snow blanketed forest. More chilly gusts of wind battered him down, trying to make him submit defeat, and huddle down and freeze to death. But, being stubborn, he refused and thus continued his wandering trek in the maze of snow.

Finally, cracking the ominous silence, a form of life sounded. A hoot from a distant owl alerted him that some kind of life, besides himself, was currently around and living. Continuing his hike, he came across another meadow; this one was smaller and seemed to be more terrifying. The thick undergrowth hid anything lurking behind them splendidly, allowing the traveler to feel a false sense of security. Rolling his shoulders, a good amount of snow fell to the white canvas below. Seeing no reason to resume his aimless trek, he sat in the middle of the snowy, silent clearing. The wind whistled pass again, eliciting a shiver from his body. He wrapped his arms tighter around his body. The wind continued to pound at him, happy he had finally sat down here, wherever here was that is.

Traveling deeper into his mind, he let reality slip away. Letting a slew of thoughts pour into his mind, he sighed a quietly. His breath was easily perceptible in the dark, cold night air. Sliding his eyes upwards, he fixated his gaze on the star studded sky. Twinkling stars dotted the murky sky, scattered about like they were running away from something prowling in the center of the cloudless sky. The bright, full moon shone in all its glory, basking the land below with a translucent colored light. The slushy snow glistened underneath the moon's steady, unyielding stare. His mind started to wander again, pulling him out of the sky's focus and into his mind's focus.

A woman, a beautiful woman, cropped up in his mind's eyes. The woman had flowing brown hair like a sheet of water that cascaded over rocky cliffs and barreled into a babbling river below. Hard, calculating but warm chocolate eyes pierced his soul. Those eyes sent him reeling with an ache, one that he could not identify. His heart twisted painfully like a dagger had been speared through it and the tip candidly rejected to come out. It was an invisible dagger, yes, but it was even more painful than a real one. At least, he thought cynically, if it was a real dagger I could yank it right out, but this one refused to even move an inch. Snorting, he picked up a handful of snow, shaping into a medium sized ball. He launched it at a nearby tree, hitting in dead on. The snow fell apart, falling on the ground in dozens of puffy bits.

Now, with the striking woman out of his mind-for now-, he could focus on the present, not the past. A blinding white light penetrated the obscure blackness. He shielded his eyes because the light was alarmingly bright. When the light receded and the inky darkness resumed its control, he opened his eyes peering at the spot the white light had appeared. Sitting there, in worn leather tube, was a beautifully crafted yew bow. A worn, brown leather quiver was resting right next to it also. A dozen shafts were pointing upwards into the midnight air, the feathers slightly swaying with the gently passing breeze.

Standing up, he walked over the yew bow and quiver. Picking them up timidly as if they were going to fade away with his gruff touch, he examined the artfully fashioned bow. It looked freshly made, the brown wood gleaming as the moon's light bounced on it. It wasn't very long, about from his neck to his waist, it would suit him perfectly. A strong bowstring was twirled around the edges, providing maximum speed and power for the arrow be launched at whatever was unlucky to be on the receiving end.

The arrows looked new too, their feathers not dull or worn down by many uses. The arrows were actually pretty long, about the whole length of his arm. The sharp metal situated at the end of the arrows was nice and sharp as if these arrows were never used before, well, they did look brand new. Running a hand down the glorious arrows, he felt how smooth the wood felt. It seemed slimy to touch, but it wasn't. It was extremely smooth and soft. Nocking an arrow, he did a complete circle. The bow was perfect. It like this bow was made for him and only him. It melted in his hands; it melded flawlessly with his body. The bow's smooth exterior concealed it powerful potency. Aiming at a nearby tree, he released the tensed bowstring, allowing the arrow to fly through the air with deadly accuracy.

The shaft protruded from the tree's brown trunk, hitting it with a soft thump. Grinning, he went to retrieve his arrow. He was surprised at the arrow's speed and power. It was a fine bow and arrow combination indeed. He was lucky to stumble upon such a beautiful weapon. Pulling the shaft from the tree, he tucked it back into the quiver-which he had clasped onto his back right after he examined the items-, and walked back to the center of the clearing.

Plopping down into the snow covered ground once again, he closed his eyes. His mind wandered pointlessly. His mind skipped from one vision to the next, just allowing him to relax for once. Grinning like a fool, he opened his eyes again and peered into the inky blackness of the freezing forest.

His attention was snapped up by a twig breaking in half. Jerking his head upwards, he swept his eyes over the vicinity, looking for the source of the sound. The bushes to his right swayed a little, indicating that something had been lurking there only a moment ago. Suddenly, the bushes to his left ruffled together, causing his attention to move over there.

A low, dangerous growl echoed throughout the meadow. The bushes right in front of him parted for something huge. Slinking out of the woods was a pitch black wolf. The wolf's muscles were bunched and tensed. The wolf's liquid yellow eyes watched him like a hawk. The wolf was crouched halfway, allowing it to move elegantly. The dark hairs on its massive shoulders stood up like a cat that was hissing at a person or a threat. The wolf's muzzle was pulled back into a tight snarl. Droplets of blood dripped from the wolf's teeth and hit the ground with a splash. The wolf's muzzle was also streaking with remnants of its last meal, the blood staining its muzzle.

The sinewy muscles were tensed in preparation. The wolf's chest rumbled with a deep growl. Letting the circumstances sink in, his mind quickly rummaged for a solution to his current problem. When his mind's fingers would curl around a plan, said plan would transform into dust and slip through his grasp. Fanatically, he searched for a solution. Nothing came into his mind. Fear ran unbidden in his dry veins. It was futile though, his mind just couldn't form a solution.

Fear overwhelming his system, he jumped upwards, alerting the wolf of his intentions. The wolf hunkered down lower, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and kill his prey in one easy swipe of its huge, hairy paws. Turning around on his heels, he dashed off into the dense undergrowth, hoping that it would keep the wolf at bay until he came up with a course of action.

The wolf's claws dug into the ground and, pushing upwards with its lean muscles, the wolf sailed through the air and hurtled towards it prey. Hearing a heavy thud behind, he glanced over his shoulder-which proved to be a foolish mistake-and the wolf's pearly teeth were snapping at his heels. Moving his legs impossibly faster, he propelled himself forwards, he refused to become the wolf's next meal.

The distance between him and wolf was growing closer together, the wolf was catching up with him and fast. Realizing he still had the powerful bow, he reached his arm behind his back and pulled it in front of him, clutching it to his chest as it heaved with the need for air. His lungs were crying out in protest, stating they needed air right now. Seizing an arrow, he nocked it, and spun around. The wolf's burning yellow eyes peered into him. The wolf's eyes were alight with the anticipation and fun of the hunt. The wolf's heavy pants could be heard, and its breath swished out into the nighttime air.

Taking aim, praying that he would hit the wolf right between the eyes, he let the arrow loose. His eyes had closed automatically. An anguished moan could be heard, and he peeled his eyes open slowly. The wolf that was once barreling towards him was now sliding on its belly. The wolf stopped a mere two feet from him, its wet nose barely brushing his leather encased foot. Another groan escaped the wolf's slacked jaw.

Being extremely cautious, he rested a hand upon the wolf's raven hide. Its heartbeat was slowly fading, signifying that it was dying quickly. Happy that the wolf didn't feel any unnecessary pain, he stood up. Rolling his shoulders that had become tensed when running away from the wolf and nocking the shaft, allowed them relaxed slightly. He let out a quite sigh. Seeing that it was useless to return to the clearing, he kept going in the direction he was running in. Once more he glanced over his shoulder, and noticed that the wolf's muscles had relaxed and its breathing had stopped completely.

Shaking his head, letting his shaggy mane fly around him, he continued his trek. The moon moved sluggishly across the star speckled sky. More snow fell, building up on his shoulders. Once again, he shook his shoulders to remove the piles of snow that had collected on them. Soon enough, he noticed that he didn't feel at all exhausted, when-in truth- he should've been worn plum out.

Reaching the top of a snowy knoll, he scanned the view that the knoll afforded him. A slow moving river was far in the north, sheets of ice moving peacefully with it. To the west more dense collections of trees formed an impending wall, one that would challenge his mental stability. To the east, where the sun was just peeking over the wisps of clouds that had condensed overnight, was an open prairie. Well, he thought humorously, I can't head back south. He had just come from that direction and had no intention to head back that way. He really didn't feel like running into another flesh-eating wolf.

If he headed north, he would have to transverse the perilous cliffs that resided below the white knoll. Peering over the edge, he estimated how long it would take him to hop from stone to stone. Deciding that it was an impossible task, for it was way too steep. He was a fool to even have considered it. He spotted an alternative path and it seemed pretty simple. It may take an extra hour or two to transverse it, but it was better than tumbling down a cliff with jagged rocks that would tear you limb from limb.

The path circle-creating a fine arch-, then it narrowed, and then joined the original path that he had his sights set on. Taking his time, he trekked down the circular path. He was sweating and panting slightly by the time he made it around the bend of the path.

In two more hours, he had successfully landed on the intended path, and was back on track. He headed north, keeping his eyes moving to catch a glimpse of potential dangers. Reaching a fork in the road, he stopped and thought it over. The left path looked clear and nice, the right looked spooky and tall weeds with thorns attached grew up to his torso. Easy, or hard. He had no idea which one. Chewing on it for a few more brief seconds, he decided to take the hard path. The easy path always led to something even harder than taking the hard path, he learned that at a young age.

But, for some bizarre reason, when he stepped towards the right side-his foot had made up the mind of not budging. Growling under his breath, he tried to move again, but ended up with the same result. Suddenly a translucent form materialized, glowing with an eerie whiteness. The paranormal light began shifting into a shape, though he had no inkling on what that shape might be.

"You, boy, or whatever the hell you want to be dubbed as!" A gruff voice shouted. He jumped slightly, startled by the abrupt presence of another person and it was even speaking to him. "Hello," it goaded, sounding whiny and bored. "Walk over here. You do know how to walk, don't you?" The creepy light asked rhetorically. "One foot in front of another." the light explained, while bending into a more familiar form. A person appeared, and it looked like somebody he met, but he couldn't recall-it was like his mind left him.

"Aw, forget it. I'll just come to you since you aren't able to walk." the man said, while sauntering over to him. When the man sidled up next to him, he received a harsh slap on the back of the head. "My courtesy," the man chuckled. _I'm officially insane_, he thought when the man slapped him. "You're not insane. Let's say you are lost and caught between a rock and a wall." the man's rough voice said humorously, his dark eyes twinkling with an edge of unknown merriment. He gaped as the man commented his unspoken thought.

_Yes, it's unanimous, I've gone completely insane. _This time, thankfully, the man didn't comment again. "Who are you?" he asked the man, while shifting his eyes over him over to see if he could remember where he would've seen him before. To his dismay, he couldn't recognize the man from anywhere. _Must be somebody I just passed by_.

"The question is: who are you?" The man sniped back, rubbing his grimy hands together to create a warming friction. He then noticed that the man wasn't wearing a cloak. The man was wearing a thin, leather brown jerkin, with worn down black boots. Airy leggings covered his legs, and he wore no gloves to protect his hands from the bitter cold.

"Here," he said, shrugging out of his cloak and holding it out to the man. The man looked at it for a second, and then his eyes snapped upwards. The man's dark eyes bored into his, sizing him up like that wolf was a while ago. "Well, go on, take it." he said, once again holding the cloak within the man's grasp. Then, for a second time, the man didn't make a move-not even a twitch-to take the robe.

Sighing, he shoved the raven cloak into the man's dirty hands. The man clenched it, peering at it inquisitively. The man's eyes met his again, and an unvoiced questioned rang into his mind. _Why are you giving me this? _

"Because you are cold-"the man opened his mouth to interrupt, but he quickly waved him off. "And don't say you aren't, because you are shivering." he swiftly spat out. The man sent him a glare, and mumbled under his breath. He couldn't make out what the man said but just went with it.

Right then, a harsh wind rushed by. White dust flew upon into the air, sending waves of glittering beams of lights in all directions. It was a pretty sight, if he hadn't have gotten covered from head to toe. The dust settled upon them. Shaking his body, piles of white soot fluttered to the ground. The man was doing the same exact thing. The man slipped the robe on, and clasped it at the front where the base of the neck was located.

"Thanks, I guess." the man muttered, not looking him in the eye anymore. "Now, what was I saying before you interrupted me." His dark eyes had a distant gleam to them as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah!" he shouted, waving his finger in the air.

He stared at the unknown man like he was a lunatic, which he actually was, well, to him at least. The man's eyes settled on him, and a dangerous edge formed in them. The man had caught his look and wasn't very happy about it. "What you lookin' at, boy!" The man shouted indignant, his voice raising an octave higher. "I'm not insane. Don't even bother saying that you weren't thinking that, for I know that kind of look from anywhere. Well, for your sake, I'm not." the man stated, pointing an index finger-once again-into the air. "Now apologize for jumpin' to conclusions." the man demanded, waving his arms outwards.

"Sorry," he said, tasting a foul taste of uncertainty on his tongue. It didn't feel right to apologize to this man, no, it felt wrong. Pushing the thought aside, he focused on the man who was staring at him intently, an appeased glitter shining in his dark eyes.

"Much better," the man approved with a small nod. "Now, onto the matter at hand." The man started to pace, his face set into wrinkled lines of deep pondering. Back and forth he walked, completing that circuit three times before coming to halt in front of him. "Where to start," the ghostly figure said to himself, chancing a glance to his direction and seeing the befuddled look on his face. A flower of humor bloomed within the confines of the man's chest. The ghostly figure knew he was confused beyond reason.

"Well," he prompted, peering at the man. "What is so vital that you forgot what you were going to say?"

The man looked at the boy with the same look the boy was giving him earlier. "I didn't forget, I'm just collecting my thoughts and putting them in a good order," the man voiced. _So damn grouchy_, he thought as the man snapped at him.

More snow floated to the pearly whiteness below, recollecting on the man's and his shoulders. He sat there, waiting patiently for the man to round up his thoughts. _I'd rather not be snapped at again,_ he thought with a slight chuckle.

"You are meant to do something great," the man started, while meeting his eyes. The humor had utterly vanished and a dark look of sheer solemn had replaced it. "I can't divulge what it is, yet." the man warned, not wanting the young lad to ask useless questions that he couldn't answer. "You are needed to end a long, drawn out war."

He opened his mouth to speak, but the man didn't give him the opportunity to butt in. "Let me finish," the man spat, his voice once again sounding quiet furious. "Anyways, as I was saying, you are needed to end a bloody and corrupted confrontation. The sake of your people-and future-depends on it." The man had once again resumed his pacing, but his finger wasn't tapping his chin. Both hands were tucked behind his back, clasped together. "You don't know who I am, but you will soon enough."

The wind howled pass, eliciting an eerie silence to fall upon them like the sticky, wet slush was. For several moments nobody spoke or moved. Then, suddenly, a ray of dark light streaked across the sky. A fearful and hurried look entered the man's dark eyes.

"I don't have much time left before you awake, but you need to save somebody. They are tucked away within a horrid castle, being tortured for not handing out information on the whereabouts of a certain group of people. This is all I can tell you. I pray it is enough to get you started. Good luck!"

The wind had picked up, swirling the snow around them like fine dust. The man's voice was growing further away as if he were fading away, which he was. The man's body was dissipating into the wind's whipping clutches. "Wait!" he yelled to the man, his hand shooting out to grab his arm. "I need more information, I'm confused!" he cried outwards, praying the man would answer this final question, seeing as he was fading away with each passing second.

"No matter what. Do not let somebody lead you astray of your mission. Don't listen to the lies of a dark, corrupted king. Follow your heart, and it will lead you to the light!" the man's voice shouted again, not even getting close to answering his question. Then, like a light on a candle, his voice just winked out.

When the wind had died down, he noticed that all the snow was swept away and fresh layer of green grass was growing in its stead. Falling to his knees, he lifted his head towards the sky and shouted, "I'm confused!" Confusion and frustration poured off his voice in waves.

A new smell entered his nose. His nose started to tingle, instantly recognizing that smell. The smell of burning wood. Jerking his head upwards, he saw that the field had caught on fire and it was rapidly moving towards him. The fire's clutches ate everything up, incinerating everything thin in its path.

Frozen still, he had no time to move before the fire was roaring above him. The flames licked at his face, causing him to cry out in extreme agony. It felt like he really was on fire, its sweltering heat lapping at his face like a parched wolf would at a river of cool water. His hand, blindly, moved to cover his face. As soon as they moved, the flames spread to them. He took in the sight of his hands burning, his screaming increasing in volumes of sound and anguish.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he was soon seeing nothing but inky blackness.

**A/N: Well, finally, the chapter is officially in! Yay! (Jumps for joy) This one is my longest yet, adding up to 4,833 words without including the title and A/N's notes. **

**Oh, Murtagh's POV, but no information on how Eragon's capture occurred! **

**Who was the beautiful woman? Where was Murtagh at? All these questions will be answered along the path of this long story!**

**Oh, please tell me how I did with the wolf. I know it didn't seem realistic. But please tell me how I did with the wolf; it was my favorite part to write! **

**I apologize for any inconvenience!**

**Now, after that terribly long speech, to address a few things.**

**I apologize for the ending appearing to be rushed, actually it was. It was getting to the borderline of boring and unneeded, so I finished it up rather swiftly. Sorry to all who hate rushed ending. **

**If you have any questions or concerns just PM me, or type them in your review. I don't mind answering questions at all. Well, unless they are entwined in the story plot somewhere like *cough* Eragon's detailed capture*cough*. Then feel free to ask them.**

**Feel free to add your own ideas, or thoughts on how the story to progress. I'm up for suggestions! Your opinion is extremely important to me. I want you to enjoy this story, and I'd be a sucky author to not listen to the ideas that my fellow readers/reviewers have to offer. So, yes, write a review-or shoot a PM-with some your ideas on it. I swear to read it, and get back to you as soon as possible. Heck! I may use your idea. **

**If I do use your idea. I swear to give you credit for it. If I don't, because I forget a lot, feel free to chew my ass out. I won't get mad or anything else. I'll go back and credit you for you wonderful, creative idea. This is another promise of mine.**

**It's been over a two-three- months since I updated, again I apologize for that. I swear not to give up on this story. Well, unless I die or something else freaky happens. So, yeah, this story will be completed. I have no clue how long it's going to be, but it will probably be freakishly long. Maybe 100 to 150 chapters, or so I think. Then, after is completed, I will go back and revise the chapters. Fixing the mistakes, putting in some new additions, and other various things. Therefore, I will be fixing the mistakes in this story, mostly the typos. **

**My thanks will be posted on the chapter 6, which will be giving you four new chapters to devour**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, you keep this story going and give me my attitude to keep on writing. Also, thanks to all the people who added me to their alert and favorite's list! Also, thanks to the people who added me as their favorite author. I love you guys!**


	5. Chapter 4: Present, Past, or Future?

**A/N: I figured you guys deserved a second update, seeing as it took me so long to update. I apologize for taking so long. My internet decided to just end its life. So it's not my fault, blame the stupid internet! It finally popped back on, thank goodness! I was getting tired of having to wait to update! Then my laptop went "Beep" and died. I had to save some cash to buy a new one. My mom wouldn't buy me one. Said I needed to earn some 'character'. So I worked my life away and raised enough money to buy one. **

**This chapter didn't come as easily as the first one. I have an extremely bad case of writer's block. No, I had the first one written for a month or two. This one took forever! It about made my brain fry. I don't know why, but my brain isn't pumping out inspiration like it used to. Maybe my writing is just disappearing slowly. I have no clue! That's probably why this one is so short. Please, I beg you, don't kill me! **

**So, again, I'm sorry for the long wait!**

**Enjoy you gift!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. I would have made Galbatorix and Shruikan die in a much more bloody way. **

**Quote: "When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on." ~Thomas Jefferson**

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 4: Present, Past, or Future? **

The fire swished in the pit. The flames licked away at the freshly chopped wood that had been thrown into its starving mouth. The boiling fingers peeled away the layers of fiber that covered the wood. The wood slowly transformed into a pile of ash.

He knew it was almost time to haul another batch in. He had just come in from splintering some more logs. His cream colored tunic was drenched in sweat. His hair was dripping with perspiration. His mouth was slightly hinged open, short pants tearing out of it.

His back ached, even though he was still relatively young. He had injured his back during a horrid accident. It still haunted his dreams to this day. He plopped onto his leather divan, taking off his boots that were lined with thick fur. He had shrugged off his heavy coat after he swept into the house.

His house was simple yet elegant. The rustic interior was warm and inviting. The wooden furniture was handmade. The hand that made them was graceful and smooth. They had done a fine job with etching in some little details onto the sides of the couch, armchair, chest, and bookshelf.

The little details showed his true self, if people were bright to piece them together. A small rug, made of deer hide, sat right in front of the roaring fire. When it heated up enough, he would lounge on it. It helped his back, though he didn't know why.

He swiftly slipped off his shirt, baring his chest to the heat within his log cabin. His chest was well defined. It came from all the actives he did during the day. He kept himself busy with little projects that kept his muscles from wasting away. He wanted to die a healthy man.

Taking a deep breath, he heaved himself off the couch. Walking to the cooking area, he stopped and stared at a slab of stone. The slab of stone had an image painted on it. The slab had an illustration of a young woman on it.

Her hair hung in loose curls down to her thin waist. Her bright eyes glowed with bliss. Her dark lashes gently brushed across her pale cheeks. Her small nose was crinkled as a bubble of laughter choked out of her mouth.

He quickly turned away from the picture, not wanting old memories to come flooding into his mind. Tears pooled into his brown orbs, blinding him momentarily. His heart pounded with pain and misery. He still suffered, even though she promised him he would never suffer over her. She lied. He suffered over her every day. He wasn't a good man any longer. His good side had perished the second she left him.

A knock at his door brought him out of his shell of misery. He decided dinner could wait. Besides, he thought, they might be hungry too. He strode over to the door, hoping whoever was on the other side didn't come to bother him needlessly.

He pulled the door open, his mouth gaping on who was standing on the other side. No, this couldn't be happening. He abandoned them. He told them he wanted nothing to do with them. She shouldn't be here. They were never supposed to find him. He had hid away in the mountains for that reason.

He had kept himself isolated from every body, hoping they would never seek him out for help. He denied them the first second they asked. He wasn't scared to do it again. He needed to keep his sanity intact. This woman appearance was enough to send his mind reeling. It was plunging straight down into a pit of despair and anguish.

His vision winked out before focusing again. His eyes closed unbidden. His world turned dark. He fainted.

"_Wake," a dreary voice commanded. "Wake up," the voice tried once again. "You are needed." _

_ His eyes cracked open. He looked from the corners of his eyes. His gaze landed on a black clothed figure. _

_ The figure's face was hidden behind an ashy hood. He could only make out the figure's thin lips. Gloves covered the figure's hands and boots covered his feet. He stood, watching the figure wearily. The figure shot him a wry smile. The figure, too, stood up. _

_ Every step forward the figure took, he would step back one. "You have no need to be frightened." the hooded figure spoke in a deep voice. "I'm here to help you, not harm you." the figure's voice was soft and soothing. _

_ Still, he had been tricked like this before. He refused to fall into that trap again. The last time it happened, well, deadly results occurred. "What do you want?" His question hung in the air. His voice sounded childish and fearful. He hated how his voice sounded in that moment. He was a grown man, not a small child. He cleared his throat and took another go. "What do you want?" His voice sounded stronger, less frighten. He was pleased with the way it came out. _

_ "I need you to do something. I need you to save something." The figure's back was turned toward him. The figure's feet kicked each other. "You are invaluable, irreplaceable." When the figure said that, he blanched. "You don't believe me." The figure's hum was a form of laughter. _

_ "Why should I?" His question seemed to be a good one, but the figure just chuckled again._

_ "That's a foolish question." He wanted to state that it wasn't. "You should trust me." the hooded figure spoke quietly, his voice melting with the sleepy darkness that surrounded them. "I am a part of you. You and I are exactly the same." Dark, crimson eyes peered beneath the cloak's hood as the figure whirled to face him. A gasp escaped his mouth._

_ "N-no!" he shouted into thin air. "I destroyed you. You aren't alive anymore." His disbelief caused another laugh to leave the figure's mouth. _

_ "You may have, but I still returned. Though this time, I'm fighting alongside you." He didn't want to believe the hooded figure's words, but he felt a tug. _You have to believe him_; a small voice spoke out in the back of his mind. _

_ "No!" he protested against the figure and the tiny voice inside his mind. "I will not listen to you!" _

_ The figure merely chuckled once again. "Oh, yes, you will." The figure's voice dripped with promise and determination. "That little voice in the back of your head that is whispering to you is correct. You need to believe me. It may save your life. Even though I find it pathetic." He shook his head at the figure's words. He knew where this was heading. He begged his mind to let him out. He needed to be out of this sinful trap. He knew he couldn't continue to fight forever. He had only so much control. _

_ In fact, he could feel his control slipping at this very moment. By the figure's stance, he could tell that the figure knew it had the advantage. He cussed silently._

_ "Why? Why?" His voice sounded broken and lost. He sounded just like a child who had lost their way. "Please," he pleaded to nobody. "Please let me out." His moan slinked into the air._

_ "I'm sorry," the figure's apology seemed sincere. "I want to let you out, but I can't." The figure's voice sounded just as broken as his. "But I need you, I require your assistance." _

_ "No." His voice was firm as he shook his head. "I will not do it, I will not help you!" His voice rose steadily. He was in control. He wasn't handing his body to somebody who could destroy it with a touch. He had learned his lesson last time. It wasn't happening again, even if he had to die._

_ "Fine." The figure's voice held resignation. The figure concluded that it was a losing battle, he on the losing side. "You are free to do as you wish, but don't say I didn't warn you." The figure's last words sent a chill racing down his body._

_ The world spun and tipped into reality. His dream world morphed into reality. _

His eyes blinked open and closed. He stared at the wooden ceiling. He felt the soft sheets of his bed shifting beneath him. He twisted his head, trying to get a better view.

The girl, the one who had caused his reaction, was sitting in the corner of the room in a wooden chair. She pushed the chair behind her and stood up. She walked gracefully toward him, a frown painting her lips.

Her eyes were alight with confusion and sadness. It was the first time he had seen such expressive eyes, especially from her.

"We need your help." Her statement told him he had no room for argument.

He opened his mouth to speak.

**This chapter was short, I know. It was only 1, 471 words total. It needed to be short though. I had to build up some suspense. **

**Who are the man and woman within this chapter? What was the figure talking about? Who was the lady in the stone slab? **

**All these questions will be answered soon enough!**

**Have a lovely day!**

**Arya Rocks **


	6. Chapter 5: Mysteries

**A/N (1): Here's your next installment of Captured! The point of this chapter is to have no idea what the hell is going on! So, yeah, if you don't have a flipping clue what's happening, well it's supposed to be that way! No worries, okay? It's meant to confuse you! Anyways, I'll leave you in peace to read it! **

**Quote: "You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." ~Jack London **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 5: Mysteries **

Thunder split the sky in half, rain pelted down onto the empty, bloodied streets, and lightning forked in the dark abyss. Clouds covered the moon, hiding it from all the eyes that usually stared at its brightness.

A man in his early sixties was running out of a shop, holding a thin cloth over his head to keep from getting too wet. Puddles were sprinkled on the streets. Streams of blood mixed with the rain water, creating a light red color. It washed down the street. The man's feet caused splashes of water to coat his legs and hips. He cursed silently. He should've listened to his wife. She told him a storm was brewing in the distance. He should've kept his mouth shut and listened. Now, being soaking wet and cold, he hated the pride that was installed in every living man.

He hustled down the street, hoping not to catch a bad case of the cold. He could just imagine what his wife would hassle him about. "You should've listened to me." He could picture the wooden spoon that she would shake in front of his face. Her eyes would be bright with amusement yet tinted with concern. Her lips twitching in restraint of holding the grin that wanted to take over while she was trying to look stern. A smile crossed his face with that mental image.

He was so caught up in his vision, his hearing also weakened over the years, he failed to hear the sound of boots slapping cobblestone behind. Suddenly, he was pushed, forwards, to the ground. His head connected with the hard stone beneath him. A trickle of blood slid down the side of his face, dripping over his eyelid, down to his chin, and then dropping to the wet ground.

He groaned. Hadn't plenty of blood been spilled in this forsaken city? Hadn't they paid the price? A pommel of a sword knocked the air out of him. Apparently not, his mind spat darkly. Two strong hands flipped him onto his back. He looked up into dark eyes. The eyes were the color of blood. They glowed in the dark. This, he decided, was a monster. The eyes matched the perfect monster appearance.

He was shoved harshly again. This time the back of his head hit the stone. He felt a rather jagged stone lodge into his head. He moaned in pain. A chuckle escaped the creature's mouth. It was a twisted chuckle. It made the man sick. How could somebody get a kick out of an old man's pain, or anybody's pain for that matter? This man sickened him.

"Go burn in hell!" His words spat out before he could stop them. He expected the creature to kill him there and then. To the man's surprise, the monster didn't.

Another chuckle floated into the air. "I'm indomitable," the monster's voice tickled his ear. The creature's cold breath fanned the outer shell of his left ear. "Nobody will ever rid of me." A heavy boot crushed his chest, slowly adding more weight by the second. "I will never burn in hell." Another chuckle shook the still air. "Hell doesn't even exist." The monster's voice was firm, the monster didn't really believe in hell.

"You bloody monster!" His words came out garbled as blood flowed forth. The monster bent down, checking his pulse. Dead, good. The monster let out one last satisfied laugh. The horrible creature began to slowly lick the flesh away from the man's body. The monster peeled the skin all off until only gleaming bone shone in the dark, stormy night. A satisfied chuckle escaped the creature's blood painted lips. Sharp, white teeth glittered in the nighttime as a grin splashed across the creature's face. The monster turned and walked away, leaving the body for the town people to find. It would cause a panic to sweep about. He was looking forward to that.

-POV change-

Her liquid caramel colored eyes watched carefully. A dagger's blade was pressed between her teeth, the coolness of it radiating through her hot mouth. Hisses of air blew out of her tightly clamped teeth.

Her ears prickled up at the sound of heavy footfalls. She slid the dagger from between her teeth. The dagger's ribbed skeleton white handle was steadied in her right hand. Her hands conforming to the grooves that were indented in the dagger's handle.

She slipped through the shadows, making sure her sounds were masked in silence. A skinny man came into her line of view. His soft footsteps were heading away from her. She trailed after him, blending in with the many shadows that were casted about the long passageway.

The man returned to his seat, a lumpy makeshift chair that was situated by a door. The man's keys jingled as he sat down. A deep breath blew out into the cool air. The man's eyes closed. Soft snores came out a few moments later.

She crept up behind the man, the space between the chair and wall just enough to let her pass. She laid a hand upon the man's mouth, making sure he couldn't make a sound. She positioned the knife in the middle of his neck.

She slowly pressed down, drawing a line of red across his neck. The man's eyes shot open before they became blank and cold. She wiped her dragger on her leggings. She wiped the blood from the man's neck. Now he looked like he was taking a peaceful nap.

She seized the man's keys and made for the door. She unlocked the door, peeking over her shoulder to make sure nobody was following her. After seeing nobody was, she ghosted through the door, closing it softly behind her.

She walked swiftly, peering into all the cells. Her search was soon ended as she spotted the person she had come for. A man in tattered, burned clothes was huddling against the back wall of the tiny cubicle. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, his head tucked against his thighs. He was muttering incoherent phrases.

She slid the key into the slightly rusted lock. The door clicked open and swung open with a moan. The man's head didn't move an inch. He was still tucked away, his knees hiding his face. She walked into the cell, the stench of the man's unwashed body causing her eyes to tear up.

She tapped the man on his shoulder. The man's head shot up, eyes peering up at her in fear. The dark pupils were dilated with apprehension and confusion. She gently tugged at the man's right arm, hoping to persuade him to stand up. The man stumbled upwards. She caught him with her shoulder as he went toppling to the ground again.

She threw his right arm around her neck. His arm curled around her neck, forming a tight hold. His weight was feather light. He was merely skin and bones. She hauled him through the cell door, only stopping to listen for footsteps. She heard nothing. She grunted and moved along.

The easily escaped through the underground passageways because nobody had used them in years. It was how she came in undetected. Men guarded the doors. It was foolish to her. Men should be guarding anything that allowed someone to slip through. Actually, she mused, they need better security.

Once out into the open, she led the man to a house that sat on a corner. The house was rough and old. You could tell by the way the wood had started to rot, and the roof that was fixing to collapse at any given moment.

She knocked twice, and then she knocked five times. It was a secret code. The door instantly opened up. A man about twice her size stood there. He was wearing a loose, dull brown tunic with black leggings. The man's mustache twitched as a weary smile appeared on his tanned face.

A silver line ran down the man's left eye. He never told her the story of how he received his scar, nor had she asked for it. It was his business.

"Come in," he opened the door wider. She shuffled through it, barely able to squeeze herself and the man through the door.

She guided the man to a small bed that sat in far right corner. The bed had a torn quilt thrown on top of it. She gently sat him down. The man looked at her thankfully. She nodded in return.

The man with the mustache grabbed two chairs, one for her and one for him. He sat them right in front of the man sitting on the bed. She sat with a thump.

"You did well," the mustache man praised her. "You got in and out within an 'our." His accent lightly colored his words. "I was wondering when you'd return." He said this with a tiny twitch of the lips. He suddenly turned his eyes to the man sitting in front of them. "Your name?" he asked with a wave of his hand.

The man's eyes gained a distant edge before refocusing on them. "Justus," his voice crackled out. Justus let out a tiny cough which grew into a spasm.

"Nice to meet you, Justus. Name's Aaron." Justus just nodded.

"Thank you," Justus muttered quietly. "I owe my life to you."

"No thank you necessary," Aaron waved off the comment.

"Why?" Justus's voice broke the silence. Both she and Aaron looked at him confused. "Why did you save me?" Justus was quick to tack on after the looks shot at him.

"We need you," they both mumbled softly, sounding sheepish.

"Thought so." Justus's eyes fixed themselves on the space between her and Aaron.

Aaron and the girl both stayed quiet. They couldn't tell not to think that way because it would be lying. Lying wasn't something they needed to do. Justus had already been through enough hardships to make trust minimal, they couldn't jeopardize that what little trust they had gleaned.

"May I sleep," Justus interrupted the eerie silence.

"Of course," Aaron voiced, motioning Justus to lie down and have the bed to himself.

Aaron then sat up, knowing the discussion was done with. Aaron opened a cupboard, grabbing four thick blankets. He laid one a few feet away from the door. The other one was just a few feet away from Justus, the beds had at least three feet of space between them.

She grabbed one of the blankets that were still in Aaron's hands. She laid down on her pallet and threw the other blanket on top of her. She made sure her feet were covered before nodding off to sleep.

-POV Change-

A crisp zephyr blew through, ruffling the leafless trees. Snow swirled in meaningless patterns to the ground. The sky was pitch black and stars dotted it. It was a beautiful sight. Even the most pessimistic man must appreciate this kind of beauty. The moon lit up the sky with all its glory. It was easy visible, not being cloaked by the rolling black clouds as they crawled in the sky.

The fluffy snow resumed to fall at a steady pace. It was slow and calm. It was able to sooth the most intense of nerves. It was pure, untainted beauty. When the sun peeked through the skies, it would only gain more beauty. It was truly striking. It glistened when the sun's rays hit it. It blinded you sometimes, but it wasn't anything to curse at. It was a blessing bestow upon us, we should be thankful for it.

Boots, almost silently, crunched the snow underneath them as they trudged through the snowy forest. A black cloak swept back and forth with the motions of its wearer. It brushed the ground, covering the bottom with white, slushy snow. A hood was drawn upwards, hiding the person's face. Another cloak, but this one was white and blended with the snow, walked within inches of the other one. Their sleeved arms brushed each other as they trekked onwards. They both didn't have the slightest inkling to where they were headed. Both merely wanted to depart the cruel, unforgiving world they had always known. It was a strenuous decision at first, but they worked it out. One wished to leave the other didn't. It took a lot of convincing and soft whispers, but they finally packed and left the harsh world behind.

The black robed one was taller than the white one. The black one was also more muscular and broader than the white one. The white one was petite and short, but wasn't to be taken lightly. Their footfalls mixed together, making a bigger sound than normal. Not one word was uttered throughout their trek. It was silent and it was staying that way. The only sounds were the snow crunching under their boots, the occasional owl hooting, and their steady breathing. Their breaths were easily visible in the cold nighttime air.

The wind whispered in their ears, and ruffled their hoods. A gloved hand reached outwards. It was soon gripped with another gloved hand, but it was much bigger. They twined together and swished back and forth between their moving bodies. The snow continued to fall and covered their shoulders with a light layer. They dusted themselves off, the chilliness of the snow making their fingers tremble.

The dawn's light erupted into the sky. Making it glow the faintest pink color with an orange mixed in. When the sun's light collided with the snow, well, it started to glisten. The figures didn't bother to reposition their hands in front of their eyes. They were well guarded by the hoods. They hiked onwards, determined to reach a better future. Still silence ruled over them, not one word being spoken. They marched for three days, only stopping for rest, food, and water. Rarely, only once a day, did they rest. They kept moving forwards, not wanting to be captured and taken back to that dreadful place.

The robed figures never let down their carefully constructed guard, refusing to let the littlest thing slip past them. They were on high alert. It was a dire situation, a life or death one. Their ears would pick up the smallest of sounds, their eyes would catch the slightest amount of movement, and their noses could smell almost everything. At night they would take turns keeping guards, allowing the other one to rest fully. They only woke the other up if it was an urgent matter.

After another two days of travel, they reached a small, inconspicuous village. It was a tiny town, not even mapped. It was nonexistent, unless you lived here, or passed through it. Most people avoided small towns, saying they brought ill will upon you. No guards were posted at the gate, alerting them of how low-key this town was. Freely they walked through, their heads bowed. Their hoods effectively concealed their faces, therefore nobody could tell who they were-or more like what.

Jovial laughter hit their ears, laughter of innocent younglings. It melted their carefully guarded hearts; it broke down their stone walls. The white cloaked figure's lips twitched into a somewhat smile. The laughter grew louder as they progressed forwards. Snow still fell, but the sun warmed up their cold bodies. The sun hit their clothed backs, and warmed them up. It was a pleasing sensation.

Four young children played around the bend, their laughter piercing the air. They threw snowballs at each other, and their eyes were lit up with the simple joy of having fun. It was something the two people haven't seen in a long time. In turn, it made them smirk lightly under their drawn hoods. Their gloved hands had split apart a while back, but they were almost touching as if hesitant the other would reject it.

The children noticed them instantly, halting their running and screaming. They stared-wide eyed-at the new appearances. The younglings hadn't seen anybody pass by here for a couple of moons, it was something that hardly ever happen. It was bizarre to see one new face, let alone two. And these two had on cloaks and hoods that hid their identities. Fear instilled in the children, they thought about running. And run they did. They bolted out of there like a fire had erupted.

The little girl around five years old fell and scraped her knee. A deep gash formed on her arm, and it bleed badly. The two new faces rushed forwards. Quickly they kneeled besides her, their hands reaching outwards, and the little girl's wounds disappeared without a trace. It was like magic, which it was magic, but she didn't know that. Her wounds knitted together, now, after they were done, it looked like the incident never even happened. She thanked them profusely, her childish voice making it even cuter. She hugged them both tightly and continued to whisper thanks in their ears. They merely smiled, and patted her back. The three boys, one around seven, the other around nine, and the last one around eleven stepped forwards. They took a hold of the young girl's arms and dragged her behind them.

"Demons," they heard the oldest one curse under his breath. They shouldn't have been able to hear that, but they still heard him. That is why their kind hardly ventured out into the other side of the world, not wanting to be scorned by those who didn't understand them. They thought their magic was bad and dark. Villagers soon rebelled against their kind, killing them one by one. Soon, after many deaths had occurred, did they leave and start a new life. They mostly kept to themselves, only talking to non-magic users if the need was dire. They were considered demons because they could use magic, but they weren't. Yes, some of them used magic for evil deeds, but they all weren't like that. Some were compassionate and loving. Others were wise and serene. Only a select few used dark magic, and they thrived in the mountains, where they didn't relate with other magic societies.

They were called the 'dark ones'. It was a fitting name indeed. They had done terrible endeavors. They killed without mercy and with no heart. They were heartless. Most of the dark ones had no idea what emotions were. Dark ones had the saying 'emotions are better silenced' drilled into their heads from birth. They felt nothing, they merely killed to kill. There was no glory, no honor, and no duty, no anything when they killed millions of innocent people. Dark ones slaughtered village after village, leaving the rotting corpses behind. Some dark ones sat the villages aflame. It was something that disgusted the pure ones, which were the loving, kind ones.

These two robed figures happened to be pure ones, but that will all change soon enough. They lived off happiness and love. They despised anything filled with inky blackness. They loathed people who hated and murdered. They spat upon them. These two parted their meaningless world behind, needing a new life. A life filled with burning, passionate love. The jovial laughter of small children, the crackly laugh of the old, and to see the world in a different version, it was nice to associate with humans, even if they hated them with a burning passion.

When they reached the outskirts of the town-probably where the children they ran into resided-they saw a few humans grouped around something. They were bickering at one another and shouting inarticulate things at each other. Their breaths were hitching and their hands rested over their hearts. Shock was evident on their pale faces, and horror washed away the shock. Disgust was also among those emotions. When more humans flocked around the imperceptible thing, the blood that pooled in their cheeks, drained outwards. It left them a deathly pale color. It was a frightening sight; it brought a question into the travelers' minds. What was causing such ruckus and deathly pale faces? They were dead set on finding out the answer.

They gently pushed through the horde of people. When people noticed them, they backed away-horror and fear lighting their eyes. When the two cloaked figures managed to progress through the crowd and make it to the other side, did they see what caused such a ruckus. It was a gruesome sight, one that sent the two figures into a nauseous pit.

Hanging on a branch, barely still intact, was a dead girl. She looked to be around sixteen years old, her eyes were lifeless. They stared outwards, towards the direction where the figures advanced from. It was a repulsive sight. It made the travelers' stomachs churn, and made them want to vomit. They felt awful for the poor girl and what had transpired for her. Her destiny had unfolded and turned out to be a horrible, cold one. It was sad and sickening.

Whoever did this, which they had a slight idea who it might have been, was extremely violent and grisly. The girl's stomach was gutted and her insides fell onto the ground. A large blood pool lay beneath the girl's dead body. Her insides were twisted and turned, and laid coiled together. Teeth marks marred her body, marking her all over. She was naked, indicating a high chance she had been raped and beaten-from the bruises all over her body.

Blood soaked the area in-between her legs. Confirming she had been raped. One arm was barely still attached to where it met the elbow. It hung by a thin, fragile piece of flesh. The other arm had been skinned. You could see the white, hard bone as clear as daylight. One of her eyes hung out of the socket, the other was completely gone. When they looked down, they noticed it was in the pool of blood, floating around. Clumps of hair were scattered across the snowy ground. When they inspected the girl's hair, it had indeed been chopped off. It looked terrible, but they intended for her to look grisly. Scraps of skin littered the ground, too.

Meat off her very bones were strew all over the tree and ground. Blood splatters colored the rich, brown bark of the ancient tree. A cut, just now spotted, marred her neck. When they barely pushed the girl's head backwards, well, it almost fell all the way off. Collective gasps left the humans standing around her. Some ran off with their hands over their mouths and their faces a sickly green color. The others lingered, wanting to find out if there was more damaged to this child. Her head lolled backwards, hardly still connected to her body. The poor girl was almost beheaded.

The black cloaked traveler howled out a curse. The traveler's hands clenching into fists as it finished taking in the sight of the girl. The figure's pale cheeks were flooded with red, unknowingly to the humans, for they couldn't see his face. What sick bastards! The dark robed figure thought outraged. How dare they harm a poor, innocent girl! They raped and tortured her beyond reason. The hidden figure vowed to track down these repulsive bastards and make them pay. The stranger would torture them, make them beg for mercy. But, by the end, they would end up dead and cold like the girl before all of them. A restraining hand rested upon its shoulder, reminding the figure where they were. The figure calmed itself instantly, not wanting to scare the villagers even more.

**A/N (2): If you're not confused, well, YOU'RE A MIND READER! THAT IS FLIPPING COOL IF YOU ARE! So, yes, if you're confused that's a GOOD thing! **

**Also, these little POVs are all set in different time periods! No, so you don't ask, you aren't supposed to know what time period these POVs occurred. They are based on times that are known only to me! The time periods will come into play as the story progresses. The time periods will unfold and make the story even better. The gist: POVS ARE HAPPENING IN CERTAIN TIME PEROIDS, NOT AT THE SAME TIME! If you are still confused, feel free to ask a question in your review or P.M. me! **

**The story is about to take a bumpy ride! Woo! **


	7. Chapter 6: Gone

**A/N (1): Now, after two or three chapters not centered on Eragon, we are back to him. This chapter will focus on Eragon! Yay! **

**This chapter doesn't pick up exactly where I left off in chapter one! This chapter is just really an insight to what Eragon is feeling at this particular moment. It won't be all that long due to just giving insight on Eragon's emotions. **

**Oh, yeah, this is a time skip too! Eragon had only been in Galbatorix's castle for maybe two months in the first chapter. We are skipping ahead four more months. So he's been in there for half a year. I have no idea how long Arya was imprisoned by Durza, but I would say at least three to five months, and she was on the verge of giving up. So, I find it ample enough time for Eragon to finally crack. If you don't agree, oh well, Eragon wasn't as hardy as Arya anyways. But, mark my words, he will be when this story is over. **

**Woo! I'm on a roll! Four new chapters for you guys to eat right up! Hope I earned your forgiveness now!**

**Quote: "Insanity is often the logic of an accurate mind overtaxed." ~Olive Wendell Holmes **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 6: Gone **

Life…Life was prolonging his mockery. Life taunted him. It dragged him to the gravest pits of his own rapidly dwindling mind. His mind had transformed into a black nadir. His mind was collapsing around him. Life was inflicting the most atrocious misery upon his bleak soul. He was crumpling into pieces. He was becoming a cold shell. His world was turning a darker shade.

He was weak. He didn't have the power to stop his change. He was nearing the edge of a cliff. He was precariously dangling over the edge. One push was all it would take to knock him off. His soul was being ripped apart. His mind was losing focus. His walls were toppling down. He was powerless to stop it. He was becoming cold. He was becoming an empty host.

His suffering knew no bounds. It continued to expand into the most unthinkable horizons. His agony refused to be restricted. It yearned to grown. It desired to be set loose. His misery was roaring. Once a small spark now turned into a raging fire. The flames licked at him. The flames threated to burn him to ashes.

He was falling into his own mind. He knew once he fell, he would never resurface. The darkness was latching onto him. It was tugging him deeper. It wouldn't stop. It wanted him to bow down. He was losing himself. The darkness was creating a new being. It was tormenting him. It was taking him down.

His numbness, oh his sweet numbness, was being purloined from him. He felt the misery as it slid over his soul like honey. His beautiful numbness was leaving him. It was leaving him bare to the whole world. When the impassiveness faded, the suffering would attack. He was being left wide open. The agony was waiting for the perfect time to strike. It knew it would never overpower the sweet detachment that ruled over his body. It would patiently linger until that very numbness decided to rid itself from his presence.

He could see himself teetering over a cliff. His mind was wobbly and slowly tumbling down. He was coming close to being drowned in his own misery. He could feel the pain creep up upon his mind. The pain erupted from his soul. His soul was breaking. It was crumpling. He was fighting a losing battle. Still, for some unknown reason, he had yet to give in. He still continued to fight it. Even though his entire being begged for mercy, he still pressed onward.

Buried deep beneath the suffering was an echoing howl of grief. He felt like he failed somebody somehow. He sensed that he was supposed to uphold some sort of duty. His mind was trying to convey to him what that duty, or promise, was. It was futile though. His mind was blanketed in a numbing blackness. His mind felt fuzzy and dry. It wasn't functioning properly. He knew that much.

He bore a deep travail. It was nursed every day when he was tortured. He was losing his grip on his numbness. The emotions were snarling at him again. They lurked beneath the detachment. He knew they would rekindle the second his mind cleared the lovely fog. He wanted the fog to remain, to keep him at peace. He knew it wouldn't be so. He knew it was vanishing with every passing second. He hated it too.

He wanted to kick and scream. He wanted to cry out at the injustice. It was wrong for it to leave him. He had grown addicted to the impassiveness, loving it like a drug. He knew it wasn't healthy, but he still lusted after its coldness. It protected him, wrapped him up in its arms. It held him together.

Now, as it was blinking away, he could feel the cracks start forming. His soul was releasing its inner demons out. It was waging war inside his body. His mind was developing a sickness that couldn't be cured. His body was turning into a war ground. His mind was becoming a bloody battlefield.

He cried outward. His heart-wrenching cry made the guard feel like his own mind was being divided in two. He continued his whimpers. He continued to scream until his throat was torn and bloody. Tears streaked down his grimy face. His howls of misery floated down the halls of the wicked castle.

He trashed about in his chains. His shrieks of pain flowed out of his unhinged mouth. He had finally cracked. His numbness had been seared away. The flames were upon him. They were snarling like ravenous wolves. He was being burned from the inside out.

His screams finally ceased. His head was bent downward. Blood seeped out of his mouth. His tears splashed onto the stone floor. His constraints were tugging painfully at this wrists, ankles and neck. He grasped for breath. His tears of suffering still dripped out of his eyes.

His mind was lost. It was scattered and frayed. He was lost to the emptiness. He was drowning in his misery. He was gone. His mind completely shattered beyond the point of repair. He was now an empty shell.

His soul was bleak and cracked. It was the color of black. He had ultimately lost the war. He did no longer exist. He was nothing. He had no soul, no mind, and no heart. He was just a body. His mind was in fragments. He had lost himself. He was torn to pieces. There was no way to piece him back together. He was lost. He was lost to the world.

In his chamber, the king smiled. The child's screams were sweet music to his ears. The king's black eyes darted, almost longingly, to his door. He could live until morning. His destiny was finally coming to surface. His eyes turned away from his door, now staring at the large form of a sleeping black creature. He would rule forever. Nobody could ever dream to stop him. The king smiled again before crawling into his bed.

**A/N (2): Well, there it is. Not long at all. I hoped you enjoyed it! I'm not really good at writing a character's emotions. So, seeing how I need to improve upon that, I wrote this little number out. **

**Oh, yeah, you will not learn what conversation happened between Murtagh and Eragon. It will be revealed in a later chapter. I'm evil, I know. Let's just say the conversation didn't relieve Eragon's memories. **

**Now, after sharing that bit, let me know what you think! I love reviews and will heartily devour them! **

**Tell me what you liked. What you thought was good. Also, what you hated.**

**So review, Review, and REVIEW!**

**I look forward to hearing your feedback.**

**Now, onto the thanks! **

_** : Thanks for reviewing, again! I would love to see Saphira sallow Nassie down, but I can't do that. I need Nassie for something, something important. No details will be given at this present time though. Again, thanks for reviewing! **_

_**The ghost who walks: I love cliffies. They make me happy! I never study for any test, I just go with the flow. I also sleep in Biology. Though I maintained a 4.0 GPA, which I'm happy about. Bio. should be my strong suit, but it wasn't. I was more into my Bot/Zoo class. I loved it! We got to dissect tons of different animals. It was awesome! Anyways, thanks for reviewing! I'm sorry about the cliffie, but you did get your Murtagh's POV! **_

_**Artemisia81: You got your Murtagh's POV, but no revelations on Eragon's capture. Don't hate me! Eragon's detailed capture won't be popping up for a while. Sorry about that, but I need to build the plot a little more before I add it in. I'm also happy you love Nassie's POV! Thanks for reviewing! **_

_**Mythomagic-Champion: Thanks for reviewing! You already know all the crap that's gone down that prevented me from updating and stuff. So, thanks for reviewing!**_

_**Brisingr: I'm happy you're enjoying my story. I hope you devour every chapter I pump out! Thanks for reviewing!**_

_**BookWormsAreADyingRace: Wow, long username. I like it though. Bookworms are a dying race these days. Most of the kids in my class pick on me because I read so much. I LOVE to read. It's a passion of mine. Anyways, I'm way off topic, thanks for thinking my story's amazing. I'll continue. I wouldn't want a mob forming outside my house. XD Thanks for reviewing! **_

_**Person: Haha, I feel the same way! I also love torturing them. Thanks, I hope it stays good. Just to give you a hint. No, he wasn't frolicking in cotton fields. His capture will reveal itself as the story progresses. I don't want to showcase it yet. **_

**Thanks to all you who reviewed this story. Thanks goes out to the people who read it, favorited (not a real word), or alerted this story. Thanks to those that added me as one of their favorite authors. I love you guys! You keep me going! So, again, thanks for pushing me along! I love you guys! **

**Oh, before I forget, I need to know if I should knock this up to an M rating. It's going to have a lot of violence and adult language. If you guys are worried about reading a rated M story, well to put you at ease, it won't have any sexual themes within it. Just merely suggestions, not explicit details. I'm not that keyed on writing about that. I'm more into the violence and blood like torture. Freaky, I know. **

**Anyways, should I bump this up to M? Again, there won't be explicit details on sex, just mere suggestions. I'm only asking because of the language and violence. So be at ease my fellow readers! **

**Recommendations! **

**If you have a story yourself, or know another story, well recommend it to me! There are some requirements though! I will read it and then recommend if it's well written. **

**REQUIREMENTS:**

**I want stories that are well written. Good grammar, spelling, paragraphing, and so forth. It has to be at least decent.**

**I want stories that don't glob conversations together. I get confused reading them when two people are talking and they don't make a new paragraph for whoever is doing the talking. **

**It has to have a good plot. I don't want a pointless plot or one without a plot!**

**Any category will do! The story can be about anything! As long as it is still on FF! **

**Any rating will be fine also! **

**I don't care if they are completed or not. Just don't recommend one that has been abandoned.**

**That's all folks!**

**Start recommending! I'm sorry if the requirements appear too harsh. I want my readers to read a good story, not a mass of text. If my story seems to have that problem then please feel free to inform me of it! Also, I hope my story seems to have a plot! I have it all planned out in my head. **

**Oh, also! I'm looking for a beta reader! There are some requirements for that too people!**

**They have been reading this story and like it.**

**They won't tell me how to write my own story. Don't want somebody bossing me around. (I'll take suggestions though.) **

**They are willing to work hard. (I do work hard; I just have freaky crap happen to me on a regular basic that prevents me from updating.) **

**They aren't scared of telling me when my chapter was crappy. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a big girl. I can handle the fire or I wouldn't be in the kitchen. **

**They have good grammar and sentence structure skill! My grammar isn't good.**

**They have good imagery. (This one isn't really a requirement just optional.) I want some good imagery in my story!**

**I need somebody to point out all my typos! (The most potent reason I need a beta!)**

**I don't care if you're slow. Hell! I'm like insanely slow! So, yeah, no worries over that one. **

**There are the necessities! I'll be looking forward to see who applies! Shoot me a P.M. and explain why you would make a good beta. Also, why you want to beta this story! **

**Thanks to all who apply! **

**Yeah, I'm not abandoning this story. I've been busy lately! **

**Happy (late) Christmas and New Year! **

**Arya Rocks! **


	8. Chapter 7: Mother's Love

**A/N (1): Well, here's another chapter making its debut! I'll see ya'll at the bottom! I am pumping out ideas now! Yay! My little block has been erased! **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks **

**Chapter 7: Mother's Love**

An impish countenance peeked out the cracked doorway. A roguish grin splashed across the child's face. A smattering of freckles painted the upturned nose and chubby cheeks. The soft, pink lips were revealing white teeth. Two dimples marked the end of the playful smile.

A dark strand of hair fell into the little boy's line of sight. He gently blew the hair back into its place. The patter of footsteps soon arose. The little boy cringed into the darkened room a little more. He was hoping he would win this time. His seeker had a knack for finding him.

"Where are you?" A caring, warm voice called out. His mother was baiting him, waiting to see if he answered. He had fallen for that trick a few times. Now, after getting used to it, he learned not to reply. He kept quiet.

"No answer," a voice stated simply.

The little boy saw a shadow appear under the doorway and through the crack of the door. His breathing halted. His body froze. He watched. His heart was pounding. She won't find me, he chanted in his head.

Suddenly, the door was thrown opened. His mother was standing there. A victorious smile plastered on her face. Her olive skin was glowing with happiness. The little boy was soon wrapped into his mother's strong arms. She tossed him in the air. He giggled with joy. When he landed safely in her arms, she tickled his stomach, causing him to squeal. His mother chuckled.

"I found you," his mother playfully growled out, blowing into his stomach. His giggles came back full force.

"Stop it, stop it!" He managed to pant out between laughs. His mother ceased her tickling.

She kissed his cheek, setting him back on the ground. He quickly wound his arms around his mother's left leg. His dimpled cheeks peered up at her. She smiled another soft smile.

They heard a long bang then. Both of them jumped when the sound had happened. His mother's smile had vanished instantly. Her eyes shot down to his, worry clouding them. "Go to your room," his mother whispered urgently. She gently nudged him toward his opened door.

His little legs moved forward without his command. He was soon tucked inside his room. His mother gave him a fake smile before softly shutting the door. The little boy knew what was about to happen. His father had just returned home. The talking would start soon and slowly escalate into full blow screams. He was accustomed to covering his ears when his parents fought.

He didn't want to witness the awful sounds that originated from his parents' mouths. After his parents were done yelling at each other, his mother would come in and let him cry on her tunic. His mother would rub his back in tight circles. She would murmur to him. Sometimes she would hum a sweet tune. This only served to make him love his mother even more. His love for her knew no stops. It was always swelling and reaching new heights.

The same couldn't be said about his father. Truth is he was downright terrified of his father. His father with his muscular build and gleaming red sword that was always attached to his hip, the father that scared the living daylights out of him. His dad always came home smelling weird. He asked his mother about it one day.

_"Daddy just likes to drink a lot," she explained. _

_ "But I drink a bunch too mommy." He was confused. _

_ "Your daddy doesn't drink the same drinks as you do." _

_ "I still don't get it." His bottom lip was soon tugged in by his teeth. You could tell he was frustrated by the set of his face. He chewed his bottom lip like there was no tomorrow. _

_ His mother chuckled. "Oh, stop it," she chastened, pulling his lower lip out. He pouted at his mother's antics. "Don't go trying that look." He intensified the look. "It's not going to work," his mother sang out, giving him a smirk. _

_ His pout disappeared as he laughed. He could always depend on his mother to make everything better. _

The sounds of bickering broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the door. He hoped his father didn't come storming in through it. That tended to happen occasionally. His father would barge in with a furious look painted on his face. His father's eyes would bleed with fury. His father's hair was mused. His father's hands were clutched in tight fist.

He would usually pound his son's face in with those meaty hands. The little boy prayed that tonight his father would just scream and go to bed. He didn't want to get beaten. He doesn't even do anything to provoke his father. He was always obeyed both his parents. He minded his manners. He saw no reason why his father would beat him until he was black and blue all over.

His prays were shot down. His father burst into his room. He eyes filled with hatred. His father's eyes were locked on his small frame.

"No!" His mother screamed. Then he noticed what was different. His father's sword was out of its scabbard. His father flung it at him. His reflexes made him quickly spin, causing the sword to skim across his side. He felt unbearable pain. His eyes closed and opened rapidly. The world around him spun.

He could hear distant voices. A sound of someone sobbing was the loudest sound he could make out. His world soon vanished. He fell into a black hole.

Everything faded.

**A/N (2): Well, you guys should know who this is about. I don't know how he received his scar, but I'm going to put it like this. **

**I'm going to say our main little boy is three years old. **

**Anyways, hoped you guys liked it! I know it's short. The next chapter will be considerably longer. **

**Yes, I guess you could say, this is a filler chapter. Still, it does pertain to the plot somehow. I know how it does, but you people don't. **

**Well, anyways review, please! **

**Have a great day,  
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**Arya Rocks!**

**BTW: I'm still looking for a beta. PM me if you're interested. My requirements are posted on chapter 7. Thank you!**

**Now, the thanks to my fellow reviewers who keeps me going!**

_N-Six: Welcome aboard, hope you enjoy your stay! I try my hardest to have good description. So, thanks for telling me that! Arya and Eragon will be kept a secret until the reveal time. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you continue to like my story!_

_ .9: Welcome to my story! I'm glad I was able to keep you on your toes. I needed to create some suspense in this story. My story needed an air of mystery. I'm happy to enjoy reading my story, and I hope you continue to do so! Thanks a ton for reviewing!_

_Firedragon99: Cool name! Your questions will be answered in time! Thanks for reviewing and welcome to my fic! _

_ : I'm going to do all your reviews in one large paragraph. First, I wish to thank you for your support to this story. It means a lot when the same person reviews on every update. Second, I thank you for reading the author's note. I thought nobody read those anymore, turns out I was proven wrong. Third, thanks for being a fellow reviewer and sticking with this story. Now, onto the reviews you posted! Thank you for your compliment. I would never this story to be a masterpiece. At most it will achieve an okay rank. I'm happy you think my story is unbelievably detailed and intriguing. Well, at least I managed to confuse you. I hope in due time I will be able to erase your confusion. For now, it's required for you to be confused. I hope you continue to be a staunch reader and reviewer of this fic. Thanks for all of your reviews! _

_Anonimo: Welcome aboard! Your question will be answered in time. You just have to wait until it pops out. I hope you continue to read and review this story! Thanks for reviewing!_

_Tamerlain85: I'm happy you think my story is good so far! I hope it stays that way! Arya and Eragon will stay under wraps until I'm ready to reveal what will happen! Thanks for checking my story out and reviewing it!_

_masterdisk: I love writing dark chapters. My personal favorite to write! I love putting characters on emotional roller-coasters. It's so much fun! Your wait is over, because here is some more for you! Thanks for reviewing and reading my story! _

**I would also like to thank all the people who read this story. Who it to their alert list and all that other stuff! Thanks for reading! Big thanks to my reviewers for pushing me to continue! **


	9. Chapter 8: Transformation

**A/N (1): I'm back my fellow readers! With a new chapter for you to devour! Let's glimpse into Eragon's life! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chappie! Lots of love!**

**Quote: "Evil is not power; it is ignorance and misuse of good." ~ James Allen **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 8: Transformation**

His steps echoed lightly on the marble cladded floor. The sounds soon faded. He halted sweeping his helm off his head. A mop of chin length brown hair spilled downward. Pair of hardened coffee eyes was revealed. The face was close to an elf but a strong jaw made it partway human also. The ears weren't as pointed as an elf's ears but not rounded like a human's. The tips were slightly pointed.

A maid scurried by, bowing respectful as she walked by him. He nodded his head in regard. The maid continued to wherever she was headed. He was still standing still, not moving besides even breaths. His chest slowly rose with each inhale and went down with each exhale. His thoughts were chasing each other around inside his head. His musing was soon interrupted by a man's voice.

A soldier stood before him. The soldier's face was covered by a thick beard that was at least two inches long. The soldier's hazel eyes were locked onto his form. The soldier, like the maid, bowed to him. He motioned for the soldier to continue his message.

"High King Galbatorix wanted me to pass along your new mission." The messenger's voice trembled when he spoke Galbatorix's name. "You are to visit the outer side of the city. There you will eliminate some traitors."

"Are you positive they're traitors?" He was used to Galbatorix ordering him to kill people just to make sure he still obeyed his command. Galbatorix was a twisted person, loving the thrill of killing people without a cause. He would lie and say people were traitors when they really weren't. It was also to remind the townspeople that you shouldn't cross the king. It also justified the fact why they were beheaded. The citizens took it in without a peep of protest.

"We have evidence to prove they are," the soldier told him with conviction. He wouldn't ever suspect his precious king to lie about such a thing. The soldier's tongue was sharp to correct anyone who said otherwise. He regarded the king as a virtuous hero. It was pitiful how much he was blinded. The man had wool stretched over his eyes.

"I shall remedy the situation right now then." That was his form of goodbye as he spun around and stalked away. He already had a bow and quiver strapped across his back. He swiftly covered his face with his helm. Nobody outside the castle ever saw him without his helm. He used it to protect his identity. Nobody knew what he looked like, save for the servants inside the castle's walls. They were sworn to secrecy. They could never utter a word about his hybrid face. He was relieved by that fact.

He stopped as the young messenger's voice rang out. "Do you know where to go?" The questioned was a good one. He didn't know where to go. He faced the soldier again. The soldier took that as the go ahead to explain. "There's a house about twenty feet from the east entrance into the city. It's a dilapidated house. I don't know who would want to live in a house-or shack-like that? Well, unless they're a bunch of poor people." The soldier chuckled quietly to himself. He coughed signaling for the soldier to go on. "A man and a woman live there. They have two children, both males. The father is in his late forties, and his wife is in the early forties. The oldest male is sixteen and the youngest is ten. He wants them all dead, save for the oldest male. Galbatorix wants him initiated into the army. The young man might be bitter about his parents' demise. The king has a plan to make the boy see why they had to be murdered. Galbatorix will show the boy of his parents' betrayal to their mighty king. The boy will soon want revenge against the people who forced his parents to turn their backs on Galbatorix." The messenger's face lit up with an evil smirk. A dark glint appeared in the man's hazel eyes.

"I shall follow orders as instructed. Tell Galbatorix that I will deliver the boy soon." This was his final goodbye. He quickly walked away from the smirking soldier.

He quickly entered the main entrance. The entrance was a round room with a marble floor. The floor looked freshly polished. The white gleamed. A maid was off to the side, scrubbing the floor with gritted teeth. A bucket with suds flowing over the top of it was located to her left. She angrily threw the brush into the soapy bucket. A string of inaudible words escaped her mouth. He could only tell by the way her lips were moving.

He left the maid be, minding his own business. She was no concern of his. He exited through the double doors that led outside. He walked down the stone pathway. He stopped for a moment to admire the flowers that spouted on both sides of the pathway. His favorite rosebush was looking healthy today. The grass was a healthy shade of green. The pathway had trees lined up on both sides also. The trees provided shade. It was much better than having the sun beating down upon his back.

It was midday, which meant that the market place would be packed. It was conveniently placed in the middle of the city. That meant he would have to weave in and out of a throng of citizens. He didn't like being around people. He liked his own space and privacy. Sadly, Galbatorix was quick to remind him that the king knew everything that went on that dealt with him. He knew he would have to brush a few shoulders. That thought alone sent chills racing down his spine. He hated being surrounded. He felt like he was a caged animal. People would stop and stare at him. A mixture of fear and awe would sparkle in their eyes as they looked at him. He hated it. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He preferred to be alone. He was a loner. He didn't depend on nobody. He was a hardened warrior. His tortures had made him like a stone. His expressions were void of any emotion. His eyes were guarded with a wall of ice. He had built up steel walls. Nobody had ever slipped past. Ever since he gave his oath to Galbatorix he became an emotionless wall. Galbatorix was unable to receive a reaction out of him. He never smiled, laughed, cried, or showed any other signs of emotion. He was empty. He felt hollow. He knew he would forever be void of emotion. His voice had adapted a monotone to it. It sounded like he was bored. He was happy the day Galbatorix gave up on trying to get a rise out of him. He felt emotions, he just didn't covey them. He kept them locked up. His emotions would never cloud his judgment or his mind. He always made clear decisions. He didn't want feelings to muddle with the missions Galbatorix expected him to carry out. It just made it so much harder for him to deal with the missions he did daily.

Missions like the one he was assigned were common. He slaughtered people daily. It had grown to the point where it didn't even faze him. Actually, to his extreme disbelief, he had grown to like killing people. The power that coursed through him when he would stare down at his victims was indescribable. He loved the thrill of seeing how powerless his victims were. He loved looking into their eyes as they pleaded for mercy. He loved the feeling that enveloped him whenever the sickening sound of their necks snapping filled his ears. He adored the way their blood smelt when it dripped down his victims' necks when he barely cut them with his knife. He never tired of the feelings that rushed through him. He loved to kill. He knew he was transforming into a bloodthirsty monster. He could hear a voice in the back of his head. It whispered to him. It told him to show no mercy. The voice's sweet voice was like music to his ears. He knew he was in for a treat whenever the voice spoke.

Said voice was whispering right now. _Ah, finally another assignment to kill. We finally are able to slaughter a whole family. Well, almost however. _The voice's chuckle sent good chills rushing down his spine. _I say we rape the woman. Make her son watch. Make the whole family watch. _He hummed in agreement with the voice's suggestion. _I wonder if she would scream for mercy. Her husband would most certainly. I'm looking forward to this. _He once again hummed in agreement to the voice's plans. _We will take our time. We will savor their yells of agony and pleads. It will so pleasant. I can't wait. _The voice crackled darkly. _I will go but I shall return when the action begins. _The voice promised and then it vanished. He knew naught where the voice originated. He was shocked when the voice first exposed itself. At first, he tried to shove it out. He tried to ignore it. It was pointless. The voice soon had a fist clenched around him. The voice dragged him around on a chain. He knew he couldn't survive without the sweet voice that haunted his mind like a plague.

The chattering of hundreds of voices lit his ears. He knew he was now in the market square. Shopkeepers were behind their goods. Straw made a roof, casting shade over the shopkeeper and their goods. The carts were on wooden wheels. A horse would be tied at a post behind the salesman. Salesmen were shouting at random people. "Come buy my goods!" or "Fresh fruit over here!" and even some "We sale quality for less!"

Women were lugging baskets filled with their new purchases. Some women had a cloth casted over their hand and the cloth flowed down passed their shoulders. They would stop and examine the products that the shopkeeper had for sale. They would either say yay or nay. It was a fascinating process to watch. The buyers would study whatever they were buying with a critical eye. They forehead would wrinkle in concentration. Some even rubbed their chins. He knew the shopkeeper wanted to yell at them to hurry up. However, they knew they would lose a sale if they did that. They merely bit their cheeks in impatience. They would smile brightly whenever the buyer's eyes would look up at them. It was intriguing to watch as the process went ahead. The salesman would hold his tongue and plaster a cheery smile on his face. Whenever the woman would smile, the shopkeeper knew he had made a sale. The woman would pay the shopkeeper and continue on her way. The shopkeeper would grin with pride. He had made another sale by being patient.

A child's annoying laughter broke him out of his thoughts. A young girl was running through the streets. She had a doll in her hand. The little girl was swinging said doll around. Giggles would pour out of the girl's mouth. She would make odd faces at the doll that she clutched in her left hand.

He wanted to rip the doll out of the girl's hand. Little kids grated his nerves to no end. They were nothing special. He just wished kids would disappear from the land. It would much better place without them.

He gracefully weaved through the throng of people that bustled down the side alleys. People would stop and stare at him. Some retreated into the shadows whenever they saw him. Fear was etched onto their faces. They would scurry away like rats._ Probably heading back to their gutter. _He thought with disdain. He shook his head. He had no business with such miserable excuses of humans. They were worthless. He would be happy when Galbatorix gave him permission to lop their head off. He would be extremely indebted to his king then. He also wanted to rid of some pompous high society people. They made be rich but that doesn't give them the right to mock him. He just wanted to slaughter anybody who dared mocked him. He didn't have the patience to deal with people who belittled him all the time. _I can't kill them. Galbatorix would strangle me. _He would chant in his mind whenever the lords and ladies would gather at the palace for Galbatorix's annual feast. He knew if he didn't have complete control of his emotions, a lot of those people would be laying in a pool of their own blood. He hated that feast. He wished Galbatorix would end it. Galbatorix refused to, saying he needed to keep check with his underlings. He had to agree with Galbatorix on that statement. He knew the king needed to keep an eye out for suspicious people.

His feet stopped. His eyes moved upward. He reached his destination. The soldier was indeed correct. The house looked like a shack. A rundown shack that is. The roof was caving in. The door hung off the hinges. He stepped up to the door. He knocked three times. He may be fixing to murder these people, but he still had manners. Those manners would zip out of his mind the minute the first drop of blood was spilt.

"Just a minute!" A relaxed voice called out. He waited for the woman to heave the door open. Whenever the door was opened he met the face of the wife. "Oh!" She exclaimed softly, a hand going to her mouth in surprise.

"May I come in?" He asked politely. The woman hurriedly moved aside, allowing him passage.

"Please do," she said with a cheery smile. It was a fake smile. He could the lines of tension underneath it.

He entered a small den. A fire crackled softly in the middle of the room. Two wooden chairs were placed in front of it. A small sofa was crammed into the left side of the room. "Take a seat," the woman motioned to the sofa. He sat down. "Tea?"

"No thank you." He declined. The woman nodded and beckoned her husband to come into the den.

"What is it?" The man asked gruffly. The man was bald on the top of his head and the back, on the sides there was brown fuzz. The man also had a baby face. No hair spouted on his jaw, chin, or lip. He wore a tattered cream colored tunic. The man's legs were covered by dark brown leggings and a belt adorned his gut. The man's gut poked out over the belt. The man was portly.

"We have an important visitor," his wife said. Her eyes darted over to his form that was folded onto the small sofa. The man's eyes widened before they regained their normal shape. "He came in just a few moments ago," she told her husband. The wife had shoulder length blonde hair that was slightly curled. The woman had a button nose with a light splattering of freckles across both cheeks. She was thin, her body resembling a stick in figure. She wore a dress made from the tanned hide of a deer. It caressed the floor whenever she moved. The front of the dress hugged the bottom of her neck.

The man nodded in his direction. "Pleasure to meet you, my name is Zeuxis," the man introduced himself with a tiny smile. He gestured to his wife. "This is my wife, Kamilah." The wife shot him another timid smile. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"

"I am here from orders of the king," he announced. His voice was gentle, giving nothing away. "You needn't worry." He would quell their fears. He would kill them when they were least expecting it.

"I know you!" The man shouted as recognition shined in his eyes. "You're the king's right hand man, Justus." Fear crept back into the man's voice. He knew what the purpose of this man's job was. He did the dirty tasks the king saw no reason to carry out himself. He was the king's executioner. He killed the people the king told him to without a second thought. "You're here to k-k-kill u-us." He stammered out, his voice trembling.

The woman eyes were suddenly lit up with fright. Tears brimmed over her eyelids. Her body quivered with silent sobs. The husband wrapped an arm protectively around his wife's waist. He whispered soothing words into her ear. He could hear every word the man's was uttering into his wife's ear. He laughed lightly inside his mind. His face staying expressionless.

"What have we done to deserve the punishment of death?" The man asked. He looked at his wife. The man couldn't recall anything they could have done to provoke the king's hand.

"We have evidence supporting you are traitors." He told them without preamble. He had no time to beat around the bush. "You are guilty of treason to the high king. Galbatorix wishes me to finish the deed. He doesn't want an audience for your deaths. You were people nobody cared about. Nobody will miss you." He talked in his soft voice. The man and woman both shivered at his words.

"We never did anything!" The man shouted in a last defense. It was futile though. The king's mind was made up. He wanted them dead. He shall carry out what the king asked of him.

"I don't care," he spat out. He was growing tired of hearing the man's irritating voice. "You are charged with treason. I will deal out your punishment without a single twinge of regret."

The man knew he wasn't going to worm his way out of this one. He wouldn't run, yet he wouldn't give in without a fight. He grabbed a small dagger that was laying on a wooden table to his left. His right hand grasped the knife. The man's knife went sailing through the air. He caught the oncoming blade with ease. The knife's point was pointed straight between his eyes. The cool blade was pressed between his index and pointed finger. He twisted the blade around. The handle was now in his palm.

"You have good aim," he commented dryly. He was impressed the man had such a good aim even under pressure. "Yet no match for me."

_ Shall the games begin? _The voice had made its appearance. _I think they shall, _the voice answered its own question. He felt power swallowing his body. The power burned his body. His muscles started to bulge. His shoulders were slightly pinched together. Deep breaths whistled between his lips. _Let me take control for a while. _The voice commanded. He handed over the controls without protest. He was used to the process by now. He saw everything that happened. He just couldn't control his own limbs. He was a puppet and somebody was pulling his strings.

He saw as he shoved the man. He grabbed the man's hands and brought them behind the man's back. The man doubled over in pain. The man was forced to do whatever he willed. He walked the man to the fire. He bent the man. The man's face was hovering over the flames. The flames seemed to sense their presence. They flickered higher. They wanted a taste, who was he to deny them?

He heard the man's voice pleading with him to stop. He could hear the wife screaming. He forgot about her. He growled. He spun around, yanking the man by his hair. The slapped the wife across the face. She was knocked out cold. He shook his head. He turned back to the man. The man's eyes were looking at him with hatred. He merely chuckled inside his head. This man was pathetic. Not a worthy opponent for somebody as powerful as him. This man was a toy for him to play with. He would play with his new toy.

He and the man went back to their earlier position. The man's face was slowly inching toward the flames. His right cheek was soon bathed in fire. The man let loose a loud bellow. The man twisted and struggled to break free. His screams filled the tiny home. They carried into the air. The fire's flames licked the man's face. They slowly pulled the flesh away. The man continued his yells of agony. Soon, the man's entire face was engulfed in flames. The man's screams had finally ceased. The flames forced their way down the man's throat. The man soon stopped moving. The body sagged as the man's life force left him. He yanked the head out of the fire. The man's face was black and burnt to a crisp. He was satisfied with his handy work. He drew his dagger and slit the man's throat.

His attention was now locked onto the wife. The voice decided not to rape her. There wouldn't be any fun with the husband dead. The roughly jerked the wife up. Her eyes opened in shock. She cried when her eyes fell upon her dead husband. She kicked and screamed. She tried to escape his grasp. It was pointless. He was strong, nobody could escape his hold.

"He screamed for mercy," he hissed into the woman's ear. "He begged for mercy. I wouldn't allow him to have it." His voice was ice cold. He kissed the wife's ear tenderly. "It's your turn to scream," he breathed. The wife's movement stopped the second those words slid past his lips.

"Please, no," the wife begged like her husband.

"No can do." He didn't know what to do to her. He didn't want to use the fire. _I guess I'll kill her _the_ old fashion way. Well, after I carve into her pale skin some. _He agreed with the voice's plan. "I'm not going to use the fire on you." The wife's body seemed to relax, only to tense up with his next words. "I'm going to use my knife and carve into that pretty skin of yours. I'm going to skin your scalp. It will be so much fun." His voice was sadistic. He would love hearing this woman screamed as he skinned her alive. It would a pleasant experience.

He watched as the slowly pulled his dagger again. He started with her scalp. He slowly peeled the skin away. She shrieked in misery. He loved doing it. He continued to do that to her entire body. Blood stained his clothes and hands. He slit her throat also. He sprinkled the skin all over the house, except for the two boy's rooms. They would be home any second. He wanted to surprise them. He examined his handy work. The woman was skinless and blood coated her entire body. The man's face was burnt off and blood dripped down his neck. The boy's would come home to an unexpected surprise indeed.

He could hear two voices talking outside. He just stood there. His face stared straight ahead at the door. The boys would notice him first and then their dead parents. He slipped his bow out. He wasn't going to torture the little boy. He was ready to go back to the castle. He would finish the youngest off and drag the oldest back to Galbatorix. Galbatorix could deal with him. The door was pulled opened.

"Mom!" A voice called out. The two boys finally noticed him. Their mouths dropped opened in horror. Their eyes drank up the scene in front of them. Their bodies quaked with horror and panic.

The oldest boy stepped forward. "What did you do?" The boy's questioned was screamed at him. The boy boldly stepped toward him.

"What does it look like?" He fired his own question back. He quickly released the taunt string of the bow. The arrow whizzed in the air. The youngest boy fell, dead, to the floor with a loud thump. The oldest boy looked at his younger brother. An arrow was lodged neatly into the little's boy head. It was right between the little boy's blue eyes.

"No!" The boy shouted, jumping to his brother's side. He gently cradled the boy in his arms. "Asher! Asher!" The boy shouted over and over.

"Asher can't hear you. He's dead," he mocked the boy's pain. He placed his right palm on back of the boy's head. "Nighty night." The boy slumped forward. He was officially in a deep slumber. He picked the boy up. He swung the boy's body over his shoulders. He would carry him to castle so the boy could join the army. He hoped Galbatorix could convince him that his parents were indeed traitors. If not, the mission would have been a total fail. Galbatorix would punish him for that, even though it wasn't his fault. He trekked up to the palace. The townspeople eyed him wearily. They soon noticed the boy that was upon his shoulders. They would take a sharp intake of breath. They would turn away soon after that.

It was evening once they reached the castle's entrance. The two guards positioned out front opened the doors for him. A soldier came to take the boy off his hands. He gladly handed the boy over.

"Galbatorix will be please," the soldier informed him. He nodded. He had gained control over his body the moment he left the house. Actually, he gained it back after the voice sat the house on fire, burning it to ashes. He left the soldier's presence. He walked to his room.

Once inside, he quickly stripped down. He pulled a sleeping tunic over his head and jerked on some loose leggings. He promptly fell into his soft bed. He would shower in the morning. His snores soon filled the rather spacey chamber.

**A/N (2): Proud of myself. That chapter came out in total word count of 4, 312 without the beginning and ending A/N's notes. I love my new version of Eragon. **

**Here's the low down:**

**He did give his oath to Galbatorix. **

**Galbatorix figured out his true name. **

**He does Galbatorix bidding. **

**He loves to kill people.**

**He tortures people before he kills them.**

**A voice resides in his head. **

**There's your low down! The voice will come into play. It serves and important role in this story. Eragon has turned evil! He loves to kill people. He has grown used to it. I don't care if you don't like my Eragon. I do! He's awesome! He also has some flaws. There is a clue in this chapter. PM me if you figure it out! I would love to see if someone notices. I bet you all will, but to be safe. So, yeah, message me if you figure it out! **

**I hope you enjoyed this installment. I'll see you for the next one! **

**My computer got a virus on it. I recently got it back. I told you guys weird stuff happens to me on a daily bases. It's not fair! I'm sorry it took a while! **

**Anyways onto the reviews!**

_ .9: What does no comment mean? Thanks for that review! Happy you read it! _

_ : Yay! A whole paragraph for you! I knew he was around at least five or under when he received his scar. I just guessed! I was close so I'm proud of myself! Thanks for the great job comment! Thanks for reviewing, again! I hope you continue to enjoy my story and it good! _

_N-Six: Glad you liked my idea! I don't really care about reviews. I just write to write. It helps get my emotions out. Also, it allows me to let my inner emo out. I love writing about torture and blood. My friends think I'm crazy! I recently just finished writing a story over about going insane. My English teacher allowed us to write a fictional story. I was so happy! I'm awful at non-fictional stories. They hold no interest for me. I love to make things up, to use my imagination! He told he felt like he was reading something by Edgar Allen Poe! I wrote two different versions for of my story. My friend got mad because she said they would both good. I just hated the first one I wrote. I quickly wrote the second one in class. Anyways, back on topic, thanks for reviewing. I'm happy you are still reading my story! _

_Tamerlain85: Thanks for reviewing! I'll go back and fix the age on Murtagh! I'm happy you are still reading my story! _

**Once I finish chapter ten, I'll go back and edit some stuff. Murtagh's age for example will be corrected! **

**ExA, if I decide to do it, will be coming to way, way late in the story. This story is going to be super long! If I write about their romance, I want it to build up. I hate stories that just have Arya instantly fall in love with Eragon and act all mushy with him. I want mine to build up. I make no promises on ExA, but if I do it, it will take a while before it pops up. I need time to build it up. This story isn't even near halfway done. You'll know when I decide to implement the ExA romance. I promise you will! Does that answer your questions?**

**Anywhoo, thanks to all who reviewed! You guys keep me going. I also like to thank all the people who read my story! You guys are awesome! Thanks a ton for everything!**

**I'm still looking for a beta! Message me if you're interested in the job! **

**Happy Easter!**

**Arya Rocks! **

**(I'm only putting the happy Easter in case I don't update before then!) **


	10. Chapter 9: Subject

**A/N (1): Hey guys! I'm back! What's up? Here's your awesome installment. I hope you enjoy it! I'll see you at the bottom!**

**I apologize for this being so late! **

**Oh, since I haven't done one of these in a while.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. No infringement intended. Please do not sue me! I only make twisted versions of C.P.'s charaters.**

**Quote: "Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." ~Martin Luther King Jr. **

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 9: Subject**

Tortured screams filled the room. A group of men dressed in burgundy colored robes paced around the room. An evil gleaming in their bottomless eyes as they stared at their subject. A naked figure stood on a raised platform. His mouth hinged open in shrieks of agony. He was their test subject, they had told him that when he awakened in this ungodly place.

The leader, or so the subject assumed he was, produced a syringe. They had explained what it was and how it was created. It was complex to the subject, for he never been fully educated. All he heard was something about glass and fire. That's all he had comprehended when they spoke about the topic. He refused the urge to fall asleep. Though a few yawns had escaped, and when the leader noticed, he shot a spiteful glare his way.

They ceased the seemingly never ending pain finally. The test subject slumped to his knees, utter exhaustion taking over him. Harsh pants tore out of his opened mouth. The subject's body trembled. The leader picked up the limp arm and plunged the needle in. The green liquid was injected into his system.

The test subject started to cough violently. His body shuddered with each breath he inhaled. Two other men stepped forward and roughly jerked him to his feet by both his arms. They pulled him out of the room. They escorted him to a tiny alcove. They shoved him in, watching as the subject body's headed straight for the ground.

The subject huddled in a tiny ball. He heard the footsteps as the men left him alone. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes, he held them back. He would not let them win. He knew that crying would offer them a pleasure he didn't want to give them. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift to his wonderful family. He remembered his how they were killed. He could clearly recall the figure that shot the arrow between his brother's eyes. He could remember seeing the burnt face of his father. The skinned body of his mother was also hovering in his mind.

When he thought about that night, pure fury rushed through his body. His hands formed tight fists. He was virtually shaking with anger. He hated that man and whoever ordered him to kill his beloved parents. That man deserved to rot in hell for eternity. He hoped that his deepest wish would come true one day. If given the chance, he would slaughter the man that had slaughtered his family. He would take his life slowly, letting the murdered feel his pain. He would savor the screams his family's executioner would emit. The vile man would pay from his family's death. Their pointless death was painted red on the murder's soul.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by a searing pain. The pain slowly licked his body. It started with his legs and then moved to the top of his head. The pain consumed him, making him trash about the tiny alcove. His screams had once again begun to pour outward.

The two guards posted outside his door simply smiled. They were certain this one would be a success. Their leader was holding high hopes on this one person. They knew if this test failed their leader wouldn't be breathing long soon after. Their leader's life was depending on this young boy's success.

The young boy's yells faded as he lost consciousness. He was soon plunged into a deep darkness. All his senses were eradicated. He knew nothing at all. He had lost his perception of the world around him. He finally earned some relief from the pain that was stored up inside of him. He finally knew peace.

The guards were happy the boy had passed out. They were tiring of hearing the subject's annoying yowls. They were about to march in there and knock him out themselves. They were easily vexed. They hated being put on guard duty. It isn't like this boy had a chance to escape. They shook their head at their leader's over precaution. When questioned, their leader would say, "Better to be safe than sorry," with a morose smile twisting at his lips.

"I'm incredibly tired of this." the left guard said with weariness.

"I am too," the other guard agreed with a smirk. They both laughed. "I'm looking forward to when this test is completed." The right guard glanced over his shoulder at their test subject. The other guard huffed his agreement. "He's out of it." He pointed to their prisoner.

The left guard chuckled. "I know. It's rather pleasant. I was sick of hearing his screams. It was driving me nuts." They both shared another chortle at the guard's comment. "I wonder how much longer we have to stand here. My feet are aching."

They both had been posted here all day. They hadn't had the option to sit down on their bums. Their feet were killing them. They both learned to wear more comfortable boots next time around.

"I know," the right guard spoke. He playfully grabbed his left foot and moaned. They both started another round of chuckles. They needed a break. They hoped their reliefs would be coming around soon.

They heard two pair of footsteps coming down the corridor. They both felt excitement in the pit of stomachs. They were being released from this tedious task. They were practically bouncing on their toes.

They saw the two men walking toward them now. The two men stopped in front of them. "You are now done, you may leave," the right one said in a gruff voice.

They didn't need another word. They ran off with gleeful smiles lighting their faces. Both guards were glad to be rid of that dull duty. They weren't looking forward to coming back anytime soon. They prayed they wouldn't have to do it again for a few days. They absolutely hated guarding the test subject. It was a pointless job in their eyes.

The test subject awoke a few hours later. He took notice of the clothes now on his body. They must have clothed him while he was out of it. At least they were kind enough to do that. His body felt hot like he had a fever. His curls lay damp against his forehead. Sweat glittered on his body. He wiped sweat off his forehead. He moved the curls away also.

"Awake now, are we?" A voice questioned with a hint of amusement. "I apologize for what we have been doing to you. We just have to ensure the upmost positive result we can possibly receive from performing this little experiment."

He wanted to shout at the voice that was crawling out of the darkness. Why apologize now? They had tortured him for who knows how long! Never once did he see a glint of pity in their eyes. Sadness never masked their faces. Instead, evil smirks and bloodthirsty eyes. They yearned for knowledge; he knew that much about these foul people. They were horrible people; no one would commit such atrocious acts. They were simply monsters in his eyes. The lot of them was better off dead.

"I don't care for your apologizes." he spat lowly, unable to get his voice to full volume.

"I am sorry to hear that." The voice however didn't sound sorry, nor did it carry a tone of shock. He assumed the man knew what he was going to say and was prepared for it. "I just wished we could hurry up and be done." the voice said, its tone never changing. The voice was always steady.

"Me too," he said wishfully. He wished they would hurry up and be done with him. He wanted to track down his family's murder. It was on the top of his priority list.

"I know," the voice said, sounding slightly weary. "I will leave you be." He could hear the soft footfalls retreating away from him.

He was now left to his own devices. His stomach felt like a two bricks had been placed in it. He felt awful. His head hurt, his body ached. He sighed. He just needed to hold on until this 'test' was done. Until these heartless monsters were finished with him. He hoped that day was fast approaching.

He suddenly had grogginess wash over him. He yawed. He decided to rest. It could help his body heal a little faster. He laid his head back down. Soon his loud snores filled the tiny room.

His eyes opened when he felt a cold touch on his arm. A man stood above him. He had never seen this man before in his life. He had squared jaw that was covered in stubble. His thin nose was a little too big for his face. His wide eyes were a deep gold color. Light gray hair was placed in a thick mop on top of his head. It was pulled into a low ponytail.

His body quickly shot backwards. He now created a tiny amount of space between him and the man.

"No need to be frightened," the mysterious man spoke softly, tenderly. The man sent him a tiny smile. "I'm not here to harm you." His voice was still soft.

"Who are you?" he asked the man. He found it odd how the man had popped up out of nowhere. Well, he was asleep so that probably had something to do with it.

"No one important," the unknown man said with a mischievous grin.

"I have no time for games!" The man's face just continued to sport a grin. The man didn't seem bothered by his tone.

"I know that," the man let out a tiny chuckle. "You won't be alive much longer anyway." The man's lips turned down at that sentence. "I am sincerely sorry about that." the man said sadly.

"How do you know that?" He didn't want to believe his own demise was coming soon. He had a sickening feeling in the bottom of his gut that this man was correct. He was going to die soon. He had no idea how his death would make itself known.

"I just do." The man's eyes held so many secrets. "I was sent to warn you."

"Why? Why were you sent to warn me?"

"I don't know," the man said. "I know you are not satisfied with that answer," the man said, reading his mind.

"Oh," he breathed that single word out. "At least it won't come as a shock." His voice sounded miserable. He wished he could have experienced the life of having a beautiful wife and a wonderful, close-knit family. Guess it wasn't meant to be. His mind had taken on a darker view.

"I am truly sorry. You're death shouldn't have come so soon." the mysterious man spoke. The man turned away. "I will be taking my leave now." The man waved over his shoulder. "See you soon."

"Bye," he muttered sadly. He didn't want to die. He was far too young. He hadn't lived half his life yet. He still had a good thirty to forty years to live. He wanted the chance to have a wife and children. That was his deepest desire. He always longed for a family as tight-knitted as his own was. He shook the bitter thoughts out of his head.

"If I don't kill you, I hope somebody does the job for me," he muttered bitterly. He was referring to the man that had slaughtered his entire family. It was the same man responsible for landing him in the hell hole. "I pray to the Gods above that you will be forever tormented. That your own pain will mock you as your own dreams haunt you. I hope you live the worse life that anybody could ever possibly live." His voice sounded like pure acid.

"Time for another round!" a guard shouted cheerfully as he entered the subject's alcove. "Get up!" The guard kicked the man's ribs. The subject grunted in pain.

"I'm trying," he said hoarsely, his throat dry. He felt the guard kick his side again. He held the moan of pain inside. He stood on wobbly knees like he was a newborn foal. He was shaking like a leaf.

"There ya go!" the guard said happily. The guard poked him in the cheek. He thought these guards were too touchy. They were also the oddest bunch of guards he had ever seen. "I will escort you," the guard grabbed his arm, yanking him along behind.

They wondered down the seemingly endless pathways. Their footfalls making loud noises as they continued to stroll. The stench of mold covered the air.

"What are they going to do?" he asked the guard that leading him.

The guard paused. The guard turned around and faced him. "I don't know." The guard then kept walking.

He shook his head as he was tugged along.

They finally reached a room. This wasn't the usual room they brought him too. This one was a little smaller. A round table occupied the center of the room. Eight chairs were placed around the edge of the table. Seven of the eight chairs had people sitting in them. The guard shoved him into the last opened seat.

He didn't know any of these people, save for the leader that directly across from him.

"Are you aware why you are here?" a man questioned from his left.

He held the urge to roll his eyes. "No."

"Good, because you weren't supposed to. Some guards have the tendency to let their tongues slip." The same man said with a frown. He gathered the man was disappointed in their guards.

"Well," he started to say. "No guards have said anything to me." He was actually telling the truth.

The man nodded his acceptance. "Well, let's commend the meeting than." He waved his hand to the leader.

The leader cleared his throat. "Yes, let's," the leader said smoothly. His face remained completely calm. "Test subject number nine has showed promising results." the leader continued with a monotonous voice. "He has indicated no signs of extreme aggression. That is unlike test subjects number three and seven."

"That is good to hear," a different man voiced. He had a weathered face. Two gray, bushy eyebrows were placed above deep brown eyes. He also had a gangly beard on his face.

"Yes," the man who motioned to start the meeting said. He looked considerably younger than the other man. He had rich brown hair. Bright, caramel eyes peered outward. His face was lightly tanned.

"That is one of the positive results," the leader kept trudging onward. He had bronze colored hair that flopped into his eyes. Crystal blue eyes were scanning the table. He was muscularly built. "I was pleased to announce this information." A smile was now dangling on the leader's lips.

"I bet you were, Bran." the old man said with a hidden meaning.

"Indeed I was, Nickolas," Bran said with venom dripping off his voice.

"Watch your tongue, Bran," said the younger man.

"I apologize, Cole," Bran said with sarcasm weighing heavy on his tone.

Cole shot Bran a glare. "I'm sure you are."

"Enough," another man voiced. A cheeky grin was spread across his pale face. He looked to be in his early twenties. He had dirty blond hair. His eyes were a startling gray.

"I agree with, Tug," Bran said with an easy smile gracing his face. "We needn't our tension cause a disagreement to break loose."

"We shall try to heed your…wise words," Cole said, spitting out 'wise' like it was something bitter in his mouth. The test subject assumed Cole was also speaking for Nickolas also.

"On with the report," Tug said with a cheerful grin. "Please share us the invigorating details," he said with a snicker.

"You have no idea what is being said, do you?" Nickolas asked with an air of contempt. "I have cannot possibly begin to fathom why you were put on this committee." The haughty edge to Nickolas' voice was not missed by anybody gathered in the room.

Tug's smile was now a little tighter. "I would watch the way you talk to me, Nickolas." Tug's smile was now dangerous. It was like Tug was inviting Nickolas to challenge him. The test subject was placing his bets with Tug. The man was cheerful but was easily anger.

Nickolas only huffed in reply before turning his attention to Bran. "Enough interruptions, let's get on with it."

Tug's mouth opened before he closed it. Bran sent a small smile toward Tug.

"Like I said before, no signs of aggression have been present. Also, this subject seems to not have hallucinations." Bran was cut off again.

"No trace of deliria is very good." Cole spoke out. He received a couple of glares for cutting off Bran's speech. They all wanted to leave this place. Cole was just blocking the way for them. The test subject shook his head. None of them possibly wanted to be done with this meeting as much as he does.

"Yes, Cole, it is," Bran said coldly. "Anyways, the boy's strength has improved greatly. His mind calculates things at incredible speeds. Our research is finally showing positive results." Bran said with a proud smile. "We've been working for years on this. I am happy to announce we have perfected the serum. We will be injecting it in the army as soon as possible." Bran finished.

"I think your 'supporter' will be extremely pleased," Nickolas said with a tiny smile. "We will end this war once and for all. This serum is the key to our victory!" Nickolas' face was glowing with glee. It must have been so much unlike Nickolas because a lot of the people were looking at him with funny faces.

"I call this meeting to an end," Cole voiced. A lot of people clapped in joy.

"Cole and I will deliver the good news ourselves," Nickolas said, his face once again stern.

"Thank you," Bran spoke. Bran now turned his eyes toward the subject. "We are done with him." Bran said with a sad voice and smile.

The nearest guard jumped forward, a blade in his hands. The test subject didn't have time to even yell. The test subject's head rolled onto the floor as the body landed in a heap.

**A/N (2): This chapter turned out to be a little over 3,000 words! Yay me!**

**Sorry this took so long to get up. My grandmother was in the hospital and it was the end of the school year for me. I finished all my exams! Woo hoo!**

**The next chapters should come out rather fast. Since I'm on summer vacation now! But, I'm also working! But I won't start that until June! **

**Now! Onto the reviewers!**

**Gracetang28: Eragon will meet Arya when the time is right. Which won't be for a long while. Thanks for reviewing! Also, welcome to my story!**

** : You may consider my Eragon a flaw. I, however, find him intriguing. He is so much different than the sweet Eragon we came to know. He won't be this way forever. It just happens to be a main key in this story! Just wait patiently and Eragon won't be so vicious anymore. I need him to be evil for a good part of this story! Thanks for your review! I hope you aren't too mad at me for making Eragon so sadistic. **

**Elemental Dragon Slayer: Welcome to my story! Yes, I made Eragon a sadistic bastard! I love it though! Thanks for the review! I hope you keep reading!**

**Masterdisk: Thanks for reviewing! Yes, it was quite a dark chapter. I wanted to introduce my new version of Eragon! **

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Thank you to my readers also! Thanks to whoever favorited, alerted, or whatever else there is! I thank each and every one of you! You guys give me the courage to keep writing!**

**May you have a lovely day,**

**Arya Rocks**


	11. Chapter 10: Red

**A/N (1): I'm sorry this took a while to get posted! Please don't be angry with me! *Hides in a closet***

**So, yeah, here's chapter ten!**

**Oh, please read the author's note at the end! Thank you!**

**Quote: "A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool." ~William Shakespeare. **

**Now, onto the chapter!**

**Edited (9-8-13) by Arya Rocks. **

**Chapter 10: Red**

Galbatorix was no fool. He was unnaturally bight. He had a knack for visualizing the future and making it happen exactly the way he planned. He was always a gifted individual. He was an esteemed tactician and warrior. He was always sitting atop of the food chain.

The person standing in front of him was the reason why he was still smuggling the glory of being the top dog.

"It has been done, my liege," Justus said with a sweeping bow. Galbatorix had come to rely on Justus a lot lately. He trusted Justus, because Justus was him own creation. Galbatorix had practically made Justus from scratch. The king was incredibly proud of his handiwork.

"Good job, Justus." The king rarely bestowed praise on anyone. Justus was the one receiving most of his praise. "I will reward you greatly. What is you desire?" The king knew Justus' answer before Justus even spoke it.

"I expect nothing. I will always do your bidding without wanting a reward. No reward is ever required, my lord." Justus was honest in his answer. Justus was a simple man with simple needs. He never asked, nor expected, a reward for his successful missions. Justus was Galbatorix's most trusted man. He only handed the upmost important jobs to Justus.

"This is why you are my favorite." Galbatorix smiled down at his comrade. "I will allow you a three day respite period."

Justus' face turned white. "Forgive me, my king, for I have to refuse that." Galbatorix wasn't insulted at all, for he knew Justus would not accept that. "I will do whatever you need. Day or night, I am yours to command. I will do as you say. I will be available to you at all times." Justus despised having nothing to do. He loved killing, it had become second nature to him. His days were incomplete without spilling someone's blood. Galbatorix knew this and capitalized on it.

"No need to ask for forgiveness. I am proud that you so willingly serve me." Galbatorix waved off Justus' apology. "Unfortunately, your skills are not needed at this moment." Galbatorix had something more serious to attend to. It was something not even his most trusted servant could know about.

"Of course, my liege." Justus knelt on one knee and bowed his head. "Bye your leave?" Justus asked quietly.

"Off you go," Galbatorix said. Justus walked out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

As soon as Justus was gone, the door swung open again. Two men walked through, both with victorious smiles planted on their faces. Galbatorix was excited by the men's smiles.

"I take it you have good news?" Galbatorix stated rather than asked.

"Indeed we do bring forth good news, my lord," the oldest one said with a small bow. The young man also bowed.

"Begin, Nickolas," Galbatorix said, his eyes alight with excitement.

"We are happy to report success on our latest experiment. Bran has managed to perfect the serum. He will begin making more of the serum. Then, after he produces enough, we shall inject our loyal soldiers. Their strength will be unbelievable. Their calculation will be sixty percent faster than average. They all will be able to use magic. Their magic will put the elves to shame." Nickolas reported with a vivacious smile. Nickolas was truly happy to see to the eradication of the elves. Nickolas hated the elven race. He wanted to butcher them without mercy, and Bran had provided a way to do just that.

"Of course," Cole interrupted, "They will still need to be taught magic. It will come easily though, they will learn it within weeks." Nickolas glared at Cole, mentally cursing the young man for speaking up. Though he was glad Cole had mentioned it instead of leaving him too.

Galbatorix consider Cole's words. He wasn't mad, no far from it actually. "That is fine."

Cole and Nickolas' faces were covered in shock. They were certain the king would throw a tantrum about having to teach his soldiers magic. They were sure he would demand they come up with a way that had his soldiers using magic without being taught first.

"No need to look so shocked," Galbatorix said with a slight chuckle. "I am happy with the progress of this experiment. I will have to send Bran his crowns soon," the king said as an afterthought.

The two men finally recovered. "Is there anything else you require?" Cole asked.

Galbatorix grinned. He just thought something. It was pure genius what his mind had devised. "Do you happen to have a sample of the serum?"

"Of course!" Nickolas looked outraged that the king thought him to be incompetent enough to not have carried along a vial of the serum. He slipped his hand inside his tunic. Retracting his hand, Nickolas produced a small glass vial of green liquid.

"Ah, good, good," the king praised Nickolas. Nickolas lapped it up like a thirsty dog. "Are you sure it is safe?"

"It is, Bran said so himself. We also saw the results of the formula," Cole replied.

"Then I shall test it out myself. Justus!" the king called to his right hand man. Justus came strolling into the room a moment later.

"You beckoned, my liege?" Justus asked after bowing.

"Indeed I did," the king said. "Come here," he instructed Justus.

Justus moved toward the king, not appearing to a bit nervous. "I would like to inject something into you. It will make you much more powerful. You can kill anyone you wished, well, except for me." Justus looked at the vial in the king's hand with interest. Galbatorix knew he had Justus lured; now all that was needed was to hook him.

"Would you like that?" Galbatorix asked, making it seem like he cared about Justus' approval. Galbatorix could care less about Justus' opinion.

"Yes, my liege," Justus replied, his voice shaking with anticipation.

"Hand over your arm," the king commanded with an impatient tone. Justus held his arm out. Galbatorix rolled up the sleeve of Justus' tunic. He took the needle and watched as the serum emptied the vial and entered the cylinder. Galbatorix poised the sharp needle over Justus' skin. The needle lowered into Justus' skin. Once in far enough, Galbatorix pressed the bottom of the cylinder. The liquid soon vanished inside of Justus' body. The king made sure all the contents of the serum were inside Justus.

"Thank you," Justus spoke quietly after the king removed the needle. Justus' arm felt numb but also sore at the same time. It was an odd sensation.

"No, thank you," Galbatorix countered with an anomalous smirk. Galbatorix watched as Justus swayed, his body drooping to the left. Galbatorix caught Justus in his arms as he toppled forward. "What happened?" Galbatorix directed the question to the two men standing in the room.

"Bran said that drowsiness was a side-effect," Nickolas said while staring at Justus' fallen body. "I guess it came on quicker than we thought," he added with a chortle. His laugh fell short as the king shot him a nasty look.

"Guards!" Galbatorix shouted. Two chubby guards came rushing in at the sound of his voice.

They both bowed quickly. "Sir!" Both guards saluted him.

"Take Justus to his room. Make sure he is comfortable." Galbatorix ordered. The guards surged forward, and removed Justus from the king's arms. They draped each of Justus' arms over each of their shoulders. They dragged Justus' feet along the floor as they guided him back to his room.

"Make sure Bran knows I will be sending reports on Justus' behavior and progress."

"Yes, my lord. We will inform him immediately." Cole said.

"Leave." Galbatorix commanded coldly. "I will let you know is condition when he awakes tomorrow morn."

With that, both men swiftly walked out of the room. Galbatorix decided it was time to retire to his chambers. He strode through the corridors, his servants bowing as he passed. He didn't bother acknowledging them. He was excited for what tomorrow would bring. After entering his chamber, Galbatorix stripped and changed into his night wear.

Galbatorix fell asleep with a smile etched onto his face.

Galbatorix awoke to a mental nudge. He briefly allowed his dragon, Shruikan, to enter his mind.

_It is time, _his black dragon stated plainly. Galbatorix knew his dragon could care less about the happenings concerning Galbatorix's two pets.

_I will be there shortly, _Galbatorix sent back to his companion. He received a mental nod in return. The dragon departed from the king's mind.

Galbatorix threw on a black tunic that was trimmed with red. A pair of cream colored leggings adorned his legs. He put on his soft, black fur boots. Said boots reached his thigh, where he then tucked in his leggings. After rinsing his face off, Galbatorix exited his chamber. He purposely made his way to his right man's chamber. He didn't bother knocking, letting himself in without permission.

He was greeted by the sight of his still sleeping servant. Galbatorix chuckled, knowing that Justus did like to sleep like a dead person. Galbatorix was sometimes irritated how hard it was to rouse Justus.

Galbatorix grabbed Justus' shoulder, shaking him roughly. Justus' didn't even twitch. Galbatorix shook even harder. Justus still didn't react.

_He's making this entirely too difficult, _Galbatorix thought to himself, amused. Galbatorix then slapped Justus' face.

Justus' eyes snapped open. Galbatorix let out a gasp. He felt like somebody had stolen the air from his body. Justus' eyes soon closed again. A tiny snore escaped his parted lips. Galbatorix's heart was beating erratically.

Galbatorix was already making up excuses for what he had just seen. There wasn't a single way that could have made this happen. Galbatorix didn't remember performing any of the required rituals. Galbatorix's mind was a whirling mess. It scrambled to find out how it could have possibly happened. His mind was sent into utter panic.

Galbatorix knew he was going to be in deep trouble. How was he supposed to explain to Justus what had occurred? The transformation had transpired overnight. He never had seen a transformation happen that quickly. His mind knew it was logically impossible for something to occur that swiftly. Yet the proof was lying in front of him.

Galbatorix knew there was nothing that could override the sight he just speculated. There was nothing that could prove he was wrong. He knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, for it was upset at the sight also.

He didn't know how it happened, but he knew it was something he would have to treat with caution. One wrong move could see him killed.

Galbatorix had made sure Justus would never overpower him. Now, it seemed like his plans were falling apart. Lying in front of him was something even twice as dangerous. Something that could kill Galbatorix without a second thought, and he had created it somehow. He would research and figure out it came to pass.

Galbatorix would be keeping an even closer eye on Justus. Galbatorix had just created the one thing that could be his downfall. He created the perfect warrior. Galbatorix had unlocked his own demise.

He saw Justus' body twitch. Justus rolled over, now looking directly at his frozen master. Justus' eyes were drinking in the sight of his master.

Galbatorix stared into those orbs. Those orbs that were once a deep brown were now a different color. The tanned skin now turned into a sickly pale color.

Galbatorix barely registered that fact as he was too occupied gazing into the bright irises.

Justus' eyes were a glowing red. They were the color of a burning fire.

They elicited the feeling of being burn alive into Galbatorix's mind. Galbatorix knew his life was about to grow a lot more complicated.

He had created a Shade. Galbatorix created a Shade without instilling a malevolent spirit himself the host's body. This host had no vindictive spirit inside, well as far as Galbatorix knew he didn't.

However, Galbatorix didn't know about the voice that lurked inside his pet's mind.

Justus' red eyes were filled with confusion. Galbatorix just kept staring at the burning eyes, not moving an inch.

Those red eyes would be the death of him.

**A/N (2): This chapter total out to 2,051 words. I am proud of myself. **

**I know this should have been posted sooner, but life is hating on me right now. I've been sick, my grandmother been in and out of the hospital. I've been busting my ass off for a Windows Surface. I should be able to buy it coming in July, I'm so excited! **

**I apologize for making you wait this long! I'm a slow poke, I know! **

**Ohh, so Justus-or Eragon-is a Shade. I'm going to have a field day with this! I'm looking forward to picking up the speed of this story now! Time to roll the ball! Let the games begin! **

**I apologize if the Galbatorix p.o.v sucked balls. We don't really get to see his essence in the cycle. So, I'm just improvising! I hope you liked it enough to allow me to give it another shot!**

**I have a few announcements! **

**First, I have a beta reader! Brisingr5508! Thanks for volunteering! Brisingr5508 did not beta this chapter. But they will the next one!**

**Second, remember what I said? Well, in case you didn't, I'm going to go back and edit the previous chapters. My beta and I will each take a chapter, it will speed the process along! I'll fix the major-and minor-mistakes. So, it might be a while before the next chapter starts being written. **

**Final announcement! I'm still looking for somebody to make me a banner! I will be immensely pleased if you can make me one! I will give you credit! **

**Now! Onto the famous reviews! **

**Elemental Dragon Slayer: The subject was actually the boy in the previous chapter. He was the one where he came home to find his parents murdered. He was the one Galbatorix wanted to recruit into his army. Galbatorix didn't do that, as you can see. He just used the poor boy for his own devices. I guess you could consider it biological warfare lol. I'm glad you get my stance on the ExA thing! If I don't pair them together, then they'll just be lonely their entire lives! Thanks for your review! I hope you continue to read my story! **

** : I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. I hope I didn't insult you! By the way, no insult was taken! I actually expected somebody to grouch about my Eragon lol. I'm happy you don't hate him! I'm sorry if I did make you mad. It wasn't my intention. Chapter 11 was a random event, but I'm a random person! Haha. I hope I didn't insult you by sounding rude or anything like that! Thanks for your continue support! **

**Brisingr5508: Thanks for becoming my beta! I hope you enjoy working with me! I've tried to make this fanfic different than the norm. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Masterdisk: Haha thanks! I'm happy you like him! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Impstar: Welcome aboard the Capture Express! Eragon doesn't know magic. He's just an awesome fighter! He will relearn it, of course. He just hasn't really needed it yet. He will need it in time though! We'll have chapters filled with his relearning of magic. I'll gloss over it of course, I really don't want to go into that much detail. I have actually started to plan after I read your review. I smell what you're smoking. I'm just not the best planner, and when I do plan, everything runs amuck. So I tend to shy away from planning to deeply. I've been planning on the basic plot of this story, but not much more than that. I know how things are going to tie together. So, I've taken your suggestion into consideration! Chapters aren't supposed to make sense to the readers! Unless, you're referring to chapter 11, that was just a background story. I'm going to delete it. It might not make sense to you, but in my scrambled mind it makes perfect sense to me! I'll try to lower the ratio of inserting chapters that might no sense. I apologize if that bothers you. I just like making things hard to figure out. I'm just that way lol! But I'll try to make things easier to understand. Thanks for reviewing and giving a few pointers. I'll try to make good use of them! **

**Noodles 98: Welcome! I'm happy you love my story! Thanks for your review! I hope you continue reading! **

**Now that is done! I thank all my reviewers! My thanks goes out to all of those that read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story! It means a lot to me! You guys keep me going! Thank you!**

**Don't forget that I'm revising pervious chapters! Next chapter will be posted after I finish all my editing. Go thank Brisingr5508 for making the process finish quicker! **

**Slow writer,**

**Arya Rocks**


	12. Chapter 11: Time to Fly

**A/N (1): I know I've been gone for a really long time. Here's you newest chapter to eat up! Sorry about the wait! **

**Chapter 11: Time to Fly**

Arya wandered through the Varden's campsite. She fluidly moved through the heavy throngs of people that bustled through the camp. Her face, as always, was covered up by an emotionless expression. Her vibrant green eyes seemed to have lost their luster. Her shiny black hair was now dull and lifeless.

She swiftly and silently made her way to her tent. Once inside, she collapsed onto her cot. Fury was coursing through her veins. Her mind was screaming out at the injustice of it all. A crime, it yelled with such ferocity that it shook her.

Arya wasn't at all happy with Nasuada's decision regarding Eragon's recues. There wasn't even going to be a rescue. The Varden's leader decided it was best to just let their Rider rot in Galbatorix's dungeon. Arya was outraged with this decision. The Varden needed their Rider. He was of upmost importance. They needed him in order to defeat the king.

_That's not the real reason you want to go rescue him, _a tiny voice spoke in her mind. She had been ignoring that vexing voice for a while now. However, ever since Eragon was captured, it had grown louder and louder. Like the volume had been increased from a slight buzzing to a normal conversation level. It drove Arya absolutely crazy. She didn't need to hear that stupid voice. She didn't want to heed its words. They were silly.

For some odd reason, Arya knew, deep down, why this voice was torturing her. She just didn't want to admit to herself. She wanted to keep her feelings at a long, long distance. They were coming back at full force however. She had seen how the young Rider matured. How Eragon had grown in both skill and intellect. He wasn't that naive farm boy anymore, he was a man. He had fought battles, witnessed loved ones being slaughtered, and grew wiser from all of it. He continued to fight, even when all hope seemed lost.

"I wish I could come get you," Arya whispered to herself. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. "We need you." She said to herself. She could just imagine him walking onto the camp's grounds. How everybody would cheer. They would have their Rider back. They would have their hope back home.

Arya, more than anything, wanted to just disobey Nasuada's orders and retrieve Eragon herself. She knew she couldn't do that. She wouldn't go against orders. She would buy her time and wait. She just hoped Eragon would make it until she could rescue him. She prayed he could just hold on. Arya hoped he could remain unbroken until she showed up. That was all she could do. Just pray and hope for his safety until she could return him home.

Justus was drenched in sweat. His master had put him through and intense training session. Galbatorix was drilling Justus in the fine arts of more advanced magic. They had dueled once already. Justus being the victor when he held his black sword to Galbatorix stomach.

Justus picked up his sword. It was a beautifully crafted weapon. A thirty-five inch blade refined with magic, making it almost unbreakable. It would take a great deal of strength to break his precious sword. It glowed a faint red hue. The handle was a dim sliver color. No gems decorated it. Justus wasn't into a fancy sword. It also made the weapon heavier. That wouldn't do for him. He wanted a simple sword that could handle almost anything. Galbatorix provided him with just that. Justus then leaned over and picked up the other sword. These two swords were twins. Made the exact same way, except this sword glowed a barely noticeable black color. Justus sheathed it inside its scabbard. He would fight his master with one sword. He already won the bout using two swords.

"Shall we begin?" Justus asked his master. After Galbatorix's nod of affirmative, Justus' muscles tensed in anticipation. They stood about seventy feet from each other. The large, circular chamber hosted plenty of room for them to spar in. Justus stuck first. His sword moved with such speed and accuracy that most fighters would already be dead. However, Galbatorix had sharpened his senses with magic. The king's blade rose. A loud clang echoed in the chamber. Justus smiled inwardly. This was going to be a good fight.

Justus flipped over his master's head. Galbatorix spun around just in time to parry his apprentice's blow. Justus gave Galbatorix no room to go on the offensive. He kept stabbing, slashing, and whatever else to make Galbatorix stay defensive. Finally, Galbatorix receive his chance to go on the offensive. He made a diagonal cut from left to right on Justus' shoulder. Justus dodged the swing. He swung at the king's unguarded waist. The king was expecting that and bowed underneath it, bringing his sword up in a deadly slice. Justus jumped back. The two opponents locked eyes. Red and black were locked in a mind battle. Justus felt Galbatorix stab at his mind. He threw up his mind shield. He kept the king's influence at bay. They broke the connection. Galbatorix darted forward, his sword coming at Justus' head in a deadly arc. Justus barely leaned his head back from the fatal blow. He then retaliated by swing his owe blade. The two bladed locked in a deadly embrace. Both holders were using all their might to push the other's sword from their hands. However, they were matched in strength.

Justus decided to play dirty. He swept low, kicking his right leg out. He hit his master's right knee. Galbatorix came crumbling down. Justus held his red sword to the king's forehead. "I win," Justus announced with a childish grin. His red eyes lighting up in victory. Galbatorix accepted his defeat.

"You are growing more skilled." Justus grinned at his master's praised. "Next time I will win," Galbatorix warned, but a twinkle in his eyes. Galbatorix grew fond of Justus. He knew Justus would win him the battle. He would be king forever with Justus by his side.

"I'm sure you will," Justus jested, while playfully shoving his master. Galbatorix just shook his head. A maid burst in at that moment.

"My king, you are need for a meeting." Galbatorix frowned for just a split second.

"Yes, I will be there shortly." Galbatorix dismissed the maid. He turned back to Justus. "I will see you after the meeting is over." With that, Galbatorix swept from the room.

Justus grumbled to himself. Now he had nothing to occupy him. _Go see Murtagh, _his mind suggested to him. Yes, that was a good idea. He would go visit Murtagh.

Justus left the large chamber, making his way down the halls. Maids curtsied to him. He didn't bother to acknowledge them. He stopped in front of a wooden door. Justus knocked three times on it. "Come in," a voice called through the heavy door.

Justus walked in. Standing in just a pair of light leggings was Murtagh. His unruly black hair was sticking up in all directions. Sleepiness still shone in his blue eyes. "You just awoken from your slumber, I presume."

"Yes, I was out late last night." Murtagh stretched and yawed. Justus didn't know Murtagh had been sent on a mission. Reading his perplexed expression, Murtagh said, "It wasn't anything major. Nothing to be concerned about."

Justus didn't believe him but let it go. "Would you like to do something today?" Justus asked his only friend within the castle, well beside the king.

"What do you have in mind?" A grin overcame Justus' pale face. Murtagh hoped it didn't have to do with killing somebody.

"I wanted to go for a ride on Thorn." That surprised Murtagh. Justus had stayed away from his dragon. Justus wanted nothing to do with Thorn. "I want to see how it feels," Justus admitted. "I want to fly." Justus' red eyes lit up.

"Sure," Murtagh mumbled. He called his red dragon. A few moments later, a dragon landed on the balcony outside his chamber. Murtagh and Justus both walked outside. Sitting there was a large, ruby dragon. Its wings tucked into its body. Sharp, white teeth were showcased.

_So the boy has finally chosen to fly, _Thorn thought with amusement.

_I believe so, _Murtagh said through their connection.

_Then we shall fly! _Thorn released a mighty roar. A roar filled with cheer and anticipation.

Murtagh hopped into the saddle on Thorn's back. He reached his hand out to Justus. "Time to fly," he said with a tiny grin. Justus just grinned back. Justus grabbed his hand and jumped on behind him. "Off we go!" Murtagh hollered.

Thorn clawed his way into the sky. His wings popping open. Together the two boys laughed as the dragon flew into the sunny sky.

**A/N (2): I'm so sorry I've been gone for such an excessive amount of time. I've been really freaking busy. It's senior year for me. I've been trying to keep my A's, filling out scholarships, and spending time with my classmates. I also got to hang out with a foreign exchange student. She was pretty freaking awesome. I also had a recent death in my family. That kept me from writing also. I'm so sorry! It's just been a hard year for me. I'm back however. I'm sorry for the long, long wait! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**This chapter was a filler. I needed to get back in the work of writing. Next chapter will be much more action packed and opened up more doors. Anyways, see you guys soon! **

**A sorry,**

**Arya Rocks **


	13. Chapter 12: New Life

**A/N (1): Since I took so long on the last update, I decided to update quickly to make up to y'all! Here's your new chapter! See ya at the bottom!**

**Quote: "Any kid will run any errand for you, if you ask at bedtime." ~Red Skelton**

**This quote is so true! I have younger siblings. They will do anything you ask if it's during bedtime. I found this quote funny and true! **

**Chapter 12: New Life**

They young girl skillfully folded the fresh, clean clothes. "You have learned quickly," her master praised.

She bowed to the man. "Thank you," she said in a soft voice. The man, who had thinning white hair, sent her a halfway toothless smile. What little teeth he had were yellowed and rotted. It sent shivers racing up her spine. "May I be excused?" She questioned politely.

"Yes, you may. You have earned your leave for today," her master replied kindly. She hurried out of the room, not being able to escape that horrible smile quickly enough.

She slowly worked her way to her house. A small cottage with a stone gray wall sat upon a small mound. A small garden took resident behind the tiny cottage. She walked to the door and pushed it open. She stepped into the front room. A small sofa was placed along the back wall. An open fireplace was lightly burning. The cottage only hosted three rooms. The living area where she seated guests, her tiny bedroom, and a kitchen were the only rooms in her house. It was comfortable to her. It was tiny and she was familiar with it. The living room led to the kitchen, her bedroom was to the left of the kitchen. A door in the kitchen allowed you to go out back to the garden.

She walked to her bedroom. It wasn't anything special. A small cot was placed in the middle. A small nightstand sat on the right side, a lantern sitting atop it. A rustic mirror hung over a cabinet that had a basin implanted in it. She moved to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection. Men always complimented her on her looks. She guessed she was attractive. She just didn't flaunt it like the other women in the village did.

Her bright blue eyes were filled with weariness. Her pale skin had sweat crawling over it. Her bronze hair fell in messy ringlets to her thin waist. She wasn't thin nor was she chubby. She had curves threw into all the right places. She had two dimples that rested on both cheeks. Her bow-shaped lips were a naturally cherry color. Her teeth were white as snow.

She was used to the lustful glances men shot her way. She ignored them. Men in the village didn't catch her attention. They were all just riled up with lust. She didn't want somebody to just bed with. No, she wanted to feel cherished and loved. She wanted a family. She never had a family. She was alone. Apparently her parents abandoned her when she was little. They dropped her off at the first doorstep they could find.

Her master had found her. He took her in and raised her. He had been nothing but kind to her. He treated her with love and affection. He never raised his voice, slapped, or anything else to her. She was lucky to have such a caring master. She had heard the stories that circulated around the village. How some girl's masters would abuse them sexually, physically, mentally, and verbally. She was very lucky indeed.

Her master had begged her to stay with him. However, she desired her own living space. Her master kept all of servants in his house. She was a special case though. He let her move, helping her out a little. She was glad when she finally settled down in this cozy cottage. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough for her. She was thankful that she got to live here.

She grabbed a change of clothes and a washcloth. She opened the back door, walking into the small backyard. A garden had just begun sprouting. She had planted them a month ago. The nicest part of this cottage was that it was secluded. There wasn't another house for a little ways down the path. A small creek bubbled behind the house. It was the perfect size to bathe in. Seeing how the cottage was in the middle of nowhere, she could bathe in mentioned creek without a care in the world.

She removed her clothing and sat in the creek. The cold water felt good against her hot skin. She took the washcloth and wiped her arms, legs, face, and other important areas off. She made sure she was squeaky clean. After removing all the day's sweat from her body, she eased out of the creek. She dressed in the cloths she had brought with her.

By the time that was over with, the sun was just setting. She had just enough time to water her garden. She grabbed a small pail that sat by her backdoor and filled it halfway with water from the creek. She poured the water onto her precious plants. She made three trips to make sure her garden was thoroughly watered.

She then sat the bucket back into its spot and entered her house. She grabbed a bowl and decided to make some supper. She cut up some carrots, potatoes, meat. She added the minced bits to the bowl. She poured some, water she kept nearby in a tiny bucket that was always kept full, into the bowl. She stalked off to the living room. She slid the handle of the bowl onto the wooden rod that was placed above the fire. The rod was held over the fire by two sticks at each end. The two sticks were stuck into the ground and angled to make a v shape. The rod's ends sat snuggly in between the space.

When her supper boiled at a constant level, she poured it in a smaller bowl. She took a small spoon and began to eat her food. It tasted good. The carrot and potato juice had speeded into the meat, making it juicy and tender. She quickly gobbled it all down, slurping the excess water from the bowl.

She had just thrown her bowl in another basin that was inside the kitchen when a knock sounded at her door. She didn't get visitors at all. It was also late into the evening. Who could it be? Her mind asked. She opened the door. Her master stood there with another man. The man looked younger than her master. He had brown blond hair. His eyes were the oddest ruby colored. He had a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. A sword was slug around his waist.

She had to admit, the man was handsome. He was muscular and had a set of plump lips. His skin was a deathly pale color, like he hadn't seen the sun in a few years. His expression was one of disinterest. It looked like he was bored.

"Ah! I'm sorry to barge in like this," her master apologized, looking fairly flustered. "This young man came and asked for you." He looked at the younger man. The younger man took this as his cue to speak.

"My name is Justus; I am Galbatorix's right hand man." He introduced himself, but it sounded dull like he did it all the time. "Galbatorix has heard good things about you. He would like to offer you a job as a maid at the castle." Justus explained why he was here with ease. "If you would like to accept, I shall escort you back to the castle. We would leave tonight, of course."

She stood there shocked. She didn't know she was that good of a maid. She only did what was asked of her and made it was done right. Half of her wanted to go, the other half wanted to stay here. She had just grown attached to this cottage, to this way of life. She loved her master. She didn't want to leave him.

"I will be fine," her master spoke as if he read her thoughts. "I still have Lucy." He smiled tenderly when he said Lucy. She knew Lucy would care for him. She would make sure nothing happened to the master. She could trust Lucy.

"I don't want to leave my cottage." She glanced at her cottage with adoration.

"I will make sure nothing happens to it. Once you are released from your duty as a maid, you may return and live here." Her master spoke.

"Yes, you may," Justus voiced, agreeing with the old man. "I need to know your decision now." He didn't speak rude or hateful.

"I'll go," she said with determination. "I shall go pack a few garments and then we can be on our way." Justus nodded in agreement.

"I shall go wait with the horses." He moved down the path to where two horses stood.

Her master reached out and hugged her. "I am so happy for you. This will change your life. I know it. I will miss you dearly. You were a wonderful maid. I remember you as a tot. You were so full of life. You never ceased to make me laugh. Just know I love you. Don't hesitate to send a message if you need anything. I will always be here for you." Tears pooled into her eyes. Her vision blurred.

"I shall not, and I will miss you also." She didn't say she loved him. She wasn't the type to speak those words. No matter the situation.

"Goodbye my little one." Her master spoke sadly. He dropped a kiss to her forehead. He left, walking down the path. She watched his back until she could see it no more. She rushed into her house. Grabbing a small bag, she stuffed cloths inside of it. Once she was done, she headed back outside.

"Ready?" Justus asked.

"Yes," she replied while mounting her steed. Her horse was a dappled gray. Justus' horse was a dark bay whose coat gleamed. Justus merely made a low noise. The horses moved forward in unison.

When they were a good distant from her village, she looked back over her shoulder. She muttered one last silent goodbye to her home. She looked forward again, toward her new life and home. She would be fine. She would probably meet a good man and settle down with while in the capitol. She would face her new life head on.

She and Justus continued forward. He never looked back once. They trekked toward Uru'baen. Where she would start her new life as a servant for the king and live in the castle.

"You will be my servant, not the king's." Justus informed her quietly.

"What?" She asked shocked. "I thought the king wanted me?" She questioned with an accusing tone.

"He did, but he intends for you to serve me. He thinks you will make a good companion for me." She stared at Justus. Justus was a mystery to her. He was handsome yet reserved. He didn't act like men his age did. He acted older.

"Then I shall do that." Justus glanced at her before speeding their horses up to a canter.

They both rode off to their destination. She felt a feeling of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to this. Maybe she should have stayed home with her master.

"What is your name?" Justus asked, sounding curious.

"My name is Arina." Her master had named her. He said he liked the name.

"That's a good name," was the only comment Justus gave. He didn't explain why it was a good name.

The servant girl, named Arina followed Justus. They finally started their real journey to Uru'baen. Arina knew Justus would be her new master. She just hoped he was kind and not like the masters she heard her friends speak about. She dearly hoped he wasn't. If he was, then she knew life would be a living hell for her. She didn't want that.

I guess I shall see, she mused to herself. She glanced up into the nighttime sky, taking note of how the stars glittered brightly. She smiled up at the sky.

Her life started now.

**A/N (2): This chapter was a little over 2,000 words. Go me! I hoped you liked it! Hmmm who is Arina. How will she play a role in this story? Will Justus be a kind or cruel master? These questions will be answered as the story continues! **

**I would like to thank all of you who favorited or followed this story! You guys are greatly appreciated Now onto my reviewers! You know you guys keep me going! **

** : I know lol I'm so sorry about that! I was so busy! Now I got the summer to relax! Aw, thank you! Happy you like the brother moment! Oh, yes he certainly will! Thank you much for your continued support! Your reviews mean a lot to me!**

**Rajaman0: You will see! Thank you for reviewing! Welcome to my twisted story! **

**PurpleDragon18: Thanks for blowing me up with reviews haha! I'm sorry about all the confusion! I'm cracking up at your reactions! I wanted my Eragon to be different from other Eragons. He needed to be rebuilt. Not letting him remember who he is, and torturing him seemed like a good path to go down. It will slowly get better, maybe lol! I may cruel, who knows! It will all become clear in due time! Thanks for reviewing, and welcome to the story! Hope you enjoy the ride! **

**Once again, thank you for all the support! I'm amazed this story has gotten sixty reviews! Hopefully it can reach a hundred, though I highly doubt it. I'm not a good enough writer for that. I'm just really excited it has reached sixty! That was beyond my expectations! Thank you all for pushing me to continue! **

**Oh, before I forget! I started a new story, sort of! It's just a collection of Inheritance one-shots. Go give it a read! The first chapter is ExA! It's pure fluff! A break from my normal dark writing! I will probably be writing another one-shot for it soon! It's supposed to help me improve my writing and such! **

**An accomplished,**

**Arya Rocks **


	14. Chapter 13: Preparations

**A/N (1): Hey! I'm ready to give you guys a new chappie! Hope you enjoy it! See ya at the bottom!**

**Quote: ""Telling an introvert to go to a party is like telling a saint to go to hell." ~Criss Jami**

**I'm loving this quote! All right, time to let y'all get to reading! **

**Chapter 13: Preparations **

She had been serving young Justus for a month now. Arina had grown to observe him for signs of what mood he was currently in. Arina thought Justus was rather moody. His emotions weren't stable. They were always changing. One second he could be friendly, then the next outright cold. Justus usually just kept up his disinterested façade. His countenance refused to give hints about his current state. It was incredibly vexing to the young maid.

One day, about two weeks ago actually, Justus had come barreling through the door. His eyes were like a brewing storm. The red globes were akin to fire. Emotions swished and burned in them. She had opened her mouth to speak, only for Justus to slap her across the face. "Leave," he had spat out with an uncontrolled rage. His body was quaking. She didn't have to be told twice, she had booked it out of that chamber.

Justus never apologized. He just treated her like nothing had occurred. Arina waited patiently for him to speak his apology. Justus never uttered a word. The maid wasn't going to push him, in fear of being slapped again.

Justus usually ignored her presence. He didn't comment on any of her work. He merely nodded his head in response to whatever she told him. Arina figured she could tell him that cows had sprouted wings and he would just nod in reply. She was about to test that theory out. She was tired of his quietness. Arina wanted to hear Justus speak. Justus wasn't a talker. He kept his mouth shut.

Yes, Arina had heard him speak before. It was never to her. It was always to Galbatorix or Murtagh. Justus didn't speak to anybody else. Arina wanted to get him to open up. She was having no luck in that area. He was as quiet as ever. Arina had accepted the fact he was never going to talk to her. He would only converse with those he deemed important enough.

Arina was changing his bed sheets when Justus came strolling in. A cold mask planted on his pale visage, which was no surprise. "I changed your sheets with some fresh ones." Like usual, he just bobbed his head.

She shook her head in exasperation before stalking out the door. "Wait," a soft voice called. She whirled around, shock evident on her features. "I can talk," Justus stated with a raised eyebrow.

"I know. You never waste your breath on me." Justus shrugged. "Well, what do you want," she demanded heatedly. She had no time for games. She had a supper to cook.

"I wanted to tell you I prefer just a small soup tonight." Arina just blanched at him. "Please make it tomato soup with no meat." Justus ordered.

"Of course. Thank you for saying please." Arina bustled out of the chamber. How odd, she thought to herself. He finally spoke to her, but only to request what she cooked him for supper. Arina shook it off and continued to the kitchen.

Once arriving, she noticed another maid was hustling around inside. The maid's name was Needa. Needa looked more like a man than woman. She had strong limbs, a short hairstyle, and a mole sat right on top of her top lip. Arina couldn't help but shiver whenever the manly woman eyed her.

Needa saw her, and just glared. Arina didn't know why Needa was in a constant state of anger. "Hurry up," was all Needa said with her gruff voice.

Arina started a fire in one of the six fire pits. She quickly boiled the red liquid. After making sure it was thoroughly cooked, she removed it. Arina swiftly cleaned up her mess. The whole process didn't take long. She was in a rush to escape Needa's steely graze.

She carried the steaming bowl upstairs to her master's chambers. She knocked. The door opened before her. Justus was sitting up in bed, shirtless. Arina couldn't help but admire his sculpted muscles. They were perfectly chiseled.

A throat clearing snapped her out of her stupor. Justus was looking at her blankly. The heat rose to her cheeks. She handed the bowl over to Justus without a single word and left quickly. She didn't even ask to be dismissed. Arina was too mortified to ask.

She all but ran to her chambers. She needed to be alone. The flush had spread down her neck to the top of her chest. She jumped onto her bed. It groaned in protest of her weight. She wasn't fat by any means. She was perfectly shaped. She was skinny but had all the right curves thrown in. Men lusted after her voluptuous form. They had told her themselves many times over. Men fell at her feet.

Well, most men did. Murtagh eyes had darkened a little when he took in her shapely form. Galbatorix just licked his lips and smirked at her. Justus, however, didn't show any reaction. He looked at her like she was a normal girl, a plain person. It was kind of refreshing yet infuriating at the same time. He should have fallen to his knees.

Arina couldn't help but obsess over her new master. All the maids in the castle whispered how they would like to bed him. She even heard a few of them offer their beds to him if he needed to keep warm. That sent shivers running down her spine. She recalled one time when one had pushed too far. Now Justus wasn't ever near that terrible woman.

Justus, as expected, didn't comment. He just kept walking. Justus ignored all the lust filled glances, or the suggestive undertones to the women who surrounded him. There was one maid that he altogether avoided. Here name was Lena. She was gorgeous. She had dark brown-almost black- hair, sliver eyes that were like storm clouds, a man-eater smile, two lovely dimples that rested on both sides of her cheeks when she smiled, and lovely skin tone of caramel. She was an exotic princess type. If anybody was going to bed Justus, it was to be her. She vocalized her appreciation of his muscular form all too often. She would send a lusty smile his way whenever she spotted him. It was like she had a sixth sense of knowing where Justus was. She always managed to find him.

Justus had found a way out to avoid her. Lena groused about how Justus was pretending she didn't exist. How he was holding their love life off. She also complained how hard it was to stay faithful to him. Arina knew she wasn't. Lena would spread her legs for any man that was handsome and had a good amount of sums. Lena was nasty in every sense of the word.

Arina was proud Justus didn't fall trap to her womanly charm. He was impervious to her subtle hints and scheming motives. She could not find one fault in Justus ignoring that god-awful woman. Lena didn't know here to stop. She kept on going. Lena was a selfish bitch. She deserved to end up with some haughty man that wasn't loyal to her. Arina figured Lena wouldn't mind, as long as she was rich.

Arina was the complete opposite. She had never bedded with a man before. She had kept her virtue. The maids in the castle thought she had some kind of disease. They steered clear from her. Arina didn't mind. She wouldn't want to befriend any of them. They were all backstabbing girls that had nothing to do except gossip.

There was one maid that had stuck around. Her name was Lydia. She was reserved but sweet. She wasn't like all the other maids. She had a husband who was serving in Galbatorix's army. She was working at the castle until he returned from the front lines. In fact, Lydia had passed along some interesting news to her one day. Lydia had confirmed that the Varden had stolen away into hiding. They were withdrawing from the war. There were to be no more fights. Galbatorix would leave them be in Surda's borders. He had no reason to deal with them now. They weren't trying to snatch his throne from him.

The entire castle was to hold a feast in celebration of the Varden's withdrawal from the war. They had won this battle through forfeit. That seemed like a foolish reason to celebrate in Arina's eyes. They hadn't fought this battle really. The Varden had bowed out. They had retreated to Surda's borders, promising to never rally again.

Arina thought it was a false statement. Surely they wouldn't give in now. Not after all the hard work they put into this rebellion group. They had won major battles, gained a new rider, and had gained so much footage. It appeared unwise to back out now.

Lydia's face had earned a shocked edge to it. "Their rider is gone." Lydia had muttered in her ear just last night. Arina's head had whipped around to face the girl full on.

"What do you mean?" She questioned. She had no idea the rider had abandoned the Varden.

"He's gone. They say he left. That he just deserted them all of a sudden. Nobody knows why he left, that he just did." Lydia spoke quietly, not wanting to be heard. "They say it was because of the Elven Princess. It's said she broke his heart one too many times."

"Certainly he wouldn't leave because a female elf rejected him." Arina had shot off with certainty ringing in her tone.

"Well, nobody knows. They can't find him. He was the only hope the Varden had. They needed him for the final battle. Maybe that's another reason why he left them. Maybe he was tired of being treated like a sword that could be toss away after it fulfilled its purpose." Lydia had brought up a good point with that sentence.

"That's a good point," she uttered while nodding in agreement. "I find that a better reason than the previous one. That one was just preposterous. Makes no sense at all."

"I agree," Lydia whispered. "I have to bid my leave. I need to help Lena with the laundry." Lydia didn't appear to be the least excited. "Pray for me," she said as she walked away with a teasing smile on her face.

"I will," Arina told her with a smile that mirrored Lydia's. Lydia nodded her thanks then left.

Arina was awakened from her thoughts by a door opening. Lydia came in, plopping down beside her on her bed. "Hello," Lydia greeted with a grin. She seemed to be in high spirits.

"Why are you grinning like a fool?" Lydia's smile only grew wider. "Well," Arina podded, wanting to be in on the know.  
>"Well, my husband is to return tonight!" Lydia's excitement busted forth. She was practically vibrating on the bed. Arina placed a hand on the maid's shoulder. Lydia understood and calmed down her shaking. The bed stopped moving along with her.<p>

Arina smiled at her friend. "That is joyous news indeed!" She was happy her friend's husband was returning.

"I shall dress extravagantly tonight! My husband will have an exceptional surprise awaiting him when he attends the party!" The young maid gushed out. Joy splashed across her features. She had a look of childish excitement sparking in her deep eyes.

"I will assist you!" Arina jumped at the chance to give her friend a hand.

"That would be lovely," Lydia agreed with a beaming smile. "Well, I must be off. Meet me after you are finish with Justus. I will help you dress also." Arina smiled at her friend and promised she would be there. Lydia exited her bedchamber.

"Time to go help my master," she uttered to nobody but herself. She left the room. Heading down the hall, she ran into Justus himself. "Sorry," she apologized.

Justus just waved it off. "I was just coming to find you." His voice made her shiver. It was smooth and rich. It sounded like honey rolled off his tongue. "I require your assistance." He motioned her to follow him. Arina trailed after him like a trained hound.

Once entering his room, Justus stripped his shirt off. She stared, wide-eyed, at his shirtless form. He gestured to his bed. Arina just noticed all the tunics strewed all over it. It covered his entire bed. "I didn't know which one to wear." He admitted softly, looking unsure of himself.

Arina walked over to the bed. She picked up the assortment of expensive tunics. She finally settled on a sapphire colored one that was stitched with gold. "I like this one." She commented with a small smile.

Justus nodded and held his hand out for the garment. She handed it over. Their hands met and a spark pulsed through each of their bodies. She scooted back, shocked at the moment. Justus showed no sign of feeling it though. Arina decided to ignore it.

"This one is perfect," Justus commented in his honey voice. Arina could listen to his voice all day and never tire of it. It was beautiful. "Now, time for the leggings," Justus said with a tiny scowl on his pallid face.

Arina giggled at the display of emotion. Justus' visage instantly cleared and became an impassive mask. Arina mentally sighed. "These," she said as she gave him a pair of midnight black breeches. She also handed him his freshly polished black boots. He shoved his feet into them. He had changed into the breeches when she had her back turned to him.

"Thank you," he spoke quietly. She had to strain to hear his words.

"It was no problem." It truly wasn't a problem. She loved helping him out. He looked so lost that she couldn't but help think of him as adorable. No, she pushed those thoughts aside. She could not be developing feelings for her master. It wouldn't bode well for her. Nor would he return such feelings of endearment, she thought sadly to herself. She wished he would notice her beauty, comment on it. Justus was one to never do such a thing.

"I shall by my leave. I have to dress for this occasion also." Justus didn't voice his thoughts or disagreements. Arina left without another word.

She entered the chambers of Lydia. She saw her dearest friend fighting with a dress. It was a mint green color. "Here allow me," Arina said with an air of haughtiness. She could just make out the faint laughter of her friend. After struggling with the dress, Lydia was fully wearing it. The dress fluffed out after it hit her trimmed waist. It barely touched the floor. Lydia's pale skin contrasted greatly with the soft cloth. She looked beautiful. "You look absolutely stunning," she stuttered out, her eyes wandering up and down. Lydia would be beyond compare tonight.

Lydia chuckled. "Thank you." Lydia didn't sound arrogant, she sounded humble and sincere. "Now, it is your turn." Lydia's face hosted an evil smirk. Arina feigned terror and backed away from her companion. Lydia laughed loudly. "Come now, I even have a dressed picked out for you." Lydia turned and grabbed something off the bed.

"Ta-da," Lydia said with eagerness. With a flourish of her hand, she displayed the dress. It was lovely. It was a deep blue, much like the shade of Justus' tunic. The front was low cut enough to allow a peek at her ample cleavage. It would drive the men wild with lust. "Well, let's put it on you!" Lydia came dragging the dress with her.

"Hold still!" Lydia commanded as they fought with the dress. This one was harder to get on than Lydia's. It was more complicated than it appeared to be. There was buttons everywhere. They were driving both the maids insane. They finally fitted it onto her body.

"Oh!" Lydia gasped, awe filling her eyes. "Look at yourself," Lydia grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to the mirror. Arina finally gazed upon herself. She stared at the reflection of herself. She was beautiful. She didn't mean it in an egotistic way. It was just the truth.

The dress hugged her curves and showcased them. It did allot the ample view of her bosoms. It was perfect. It was the right amount of sexy and reserved. A wonderful mix for her, it was like the dress was tailored for her body. She couldn't help but be awed at the sight of herself. "Now we both look beautiful," she spoke. Lydia grinned at her.

"Let's be off. I have a husband to impress, and you have tons of men to tease." Arina laughed at Lydia's last sentence.

"Oh, I certainly will. You can be sure of it." She usually didn't attract attention to herself. However, tonight she wanted to. She hoped Justus would finally stumble and take note of her beauty. She prayed he would be stunned into speechlessness. To be honest, she didn't want any men to pay mind to her. She only wanted Justus' attention. She was dead set on gaining it too. Tonight she would make Justus suffer. Tonight she would drive him wild.

"I am sure of it." Lydia's voice broke her out of her lustful thoughts. "I can't wait to see all the people's faces. It will be amusing." Lydia's voice was filled with glee. "It's time for us to leave. Time for us to mingle with the egotistical nobles." Lydia said with fake enthusiasm. Arina grinned at her friend's antics. "Shall we go see if we can break the ever so impassive visage of Lord Justus?" Lydia asked, holding out her arm. Arina twined her arm through Lydia's. Together they walked out the room. Together they would embrace the night's festivities. "I do hope you can break Justus' façade," Lydia's comment hit closer to home than she realized.

"I do hope so," Arina muttered to herself. Lydia didn't catch the words that left her lips.

They walked down the stairs to greet their arriving guests. It was time to celebrate.

**A/N (2): I'm so proud this chapter was 3,020 words long! Heck yes! Some of you may be wondering why these two maids are attending a grand party. Well, they are special. Arina is the only handmaiden of Justus, so she got a free pass to attend. Lydia normally wouldn't. However, her husband was close to Galbatorix, so she received a free pass also. You will see why her husband is important in the next chapter! We will be peeking in on our King's party! **

**Oh! Also, if you noticed it! I changed Arina's eye color to caramel. I meant to put it like that in the previous chapter. Sorry about that! Her real eye color is caramel! Remember that, it's important! **

**Do you guys really believe the Varden withdrew from the war? Do you think it's some kind of ploy? I want your thoughts on the matter! **

**Oh, what about the story of Eragon abandoning the Varden. Do you think that's true? Or do you still think he was captured? I want your thoughts on this matter also! **

**Tell me what you thought of the chapter! I hoped you enjoyed it! **

**Oh, a spoiler for the next chapter. Besides peeking in on the King's party, we will also be visiting the Varden in a surprising POV! One I think you will all enjoy! **

**Now, onto the two reviews! I'm a little bit put out by this, oh well! **

** -Haha! I loved it also! Oh, yes it does! Let's see where this interesting development takes us hmmm! I wanted her to be agreeable! She needs to be! Haha, I would have stayed with the man and my own cottage too! But she needed to go! It's important for the story! *Shush don't tell anybody* Haha just kidding! Thanks for reviewing! You are my number 1 reviewer! I really appreciate all your dedication to this story! It means a lot to me! I hope you continue reading, even with your busy schedule! **

**Guest-Haha! I like to confuse people! Chapter 13's POV was easy to guess. It was Arina's. The chapter of that was Arya's and Justus' POVs! You can tell the POV if you read the chapter! However, Chapter 5: Mysteries, those POVs weren't supposed to be understandable! They will be made clearer later in the story! I'm apologize if I seem to overzealous. I just don't care to put the POV when it is easy to figure out whose it is. No offence or anything. If I get more complaints on it, I will start posting the POV before the chapter. Well, unless I want it to remain a mystery. Then you have next to little chance of figuring out who the POV belongs too. Thank you for reviewing!**

**Thanks to all that read this story! I'm hoping I'll get a little more love for this chapter. Please review guys! I want your thoughts on the story! Give me some sign that you like it, love it, or hate it! I need to know these things lol! But seriously, please review. It really keeps me motivated. I wouldn't stop writing if it got no reviews. Reviews just make me update faster. I would like to hear your thoughts on this story! So, by all means, give them to me! Unless you want to call me stupid, then I don't want to hear. It is not nice to insult people! You are entitled to your own opinion, but I will not be slandered. I don't like doing it to other people, nor do I like it to happen to me. Other than that, feel free to leave a comment! **

**Okay! Back on topic! Thanks to all who read or favorited this story! Thank you to my two reviewers for motivating me to update faster! Actually, go thank ! They're the only reason this story is being updated faster! So go thank him/her! **

**Love to my readers,**

**Arya Rocks **


	15. Chapter 14: Shocking News and a Party

**A/N (1): Hey guys! Here's a new update for you all! Enjoy it! See ya at the bottom!**

**Oh a little forewarning! Justus is a little OCC in this chapter, but not much! **

**Quote: "Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut." ~Ernest Hemingway **

**Chapter 14: Shocking News and a Party **

Garzhvog was a reputable leader within the Urgal society. He was fierce, protective, and ruthless. He didn't allow mercy to his victims. He was a leader that the Urgals naturally followed.

Today, the Urgal leader was walking through their section of the camp. He was brewing over the news he had just heard within the council chamber. Lady Nasuada had thrown quiet a shocker at them. The dark-skinned human declared they would not be rescuing their 'captured' rider. Garzhvog snorted at the term captured. That was the lie they had feeding the public. Only the leaders truly knew what had occurred.

The Ugral leader was tremendously stunned when the elf had showed such an outright display of emotion. Actually, a lot of shock was thrumming through the council meeting that had taken place just recently.

Nasuada knew what had caused their Rider to leave. She was the last person he had spoken too. The elf, Arya, had demanded an answer the night they had found out their Rider was missing. Nasuada handed no information over. Garzhvog was greatly surprised the elf didn't skewer the Varden leader with her sword. He was also stunned when the elf backed down without a fight. It was like all the fight had been drained out of the elven ambassador.

The people of the Varden believed their Rider had been captured by Galbatorix. When, in all reality, he had left on his accord. Nobody knew why, well beside Nasuada. However, she wasn't very helpful in that matter.

That's when the most shocking thing had occurred. Nasuada announced they would be withdrawing from the war. She said they didn't have the supplies or the Rider required to even have a pray of winning this war. Garzhvog was ashamed of the human leader. He wouldn't have given up so easily. He would have pressed onward. No matter what challenges life threw at him.

Nasuada had informed them that she already sent a massager to the nearest Empire controlled city. There were loud cries of protest at this development.

Orik demanded that Nasuada would send another massager and tell the Empire that the war was still on. Orrin had spat out the contents of his goblet all over the table and maps. He, himself, had simply leaned his chair back and didn't comment. He kept his thoughts to himself.

The elf queen was quiet until the end. "What have you done?" She had questioned the dark-skinned ruler. "You have made a grave mistake." That was the last thing the elf queen said before vanishing. The mirror had turned pitch black.

There whole operation was falling apart. Nasuada was the source of all this. She had done the unthinkable. She hadn't even bothered to seek their advice on the matter nor their opinions. That was unlike the Varden leader. Something was clearly messing with her head. There was something not right about her, he could feel it.

Another pressing matter was they couldn't bribe the dragoness, Saphira, to talk. She was twisted with rage. She refused to speak with any of them. She even blocked the elf maiden, Arya, out. She refused to converse with anybody. The dragoness would be the only lead that could possibly explain what had occurred that night the rider had disappeared. Arya had also mentioned she was bathing in her own grief. Garzhvog figured that meant their rider really had been captured by the corrupted king.

All in all, they had no leads. They didn't even have the faintest ide what happened that night with Eragon and Nasuada in her tent. No idea what had caused the rider's abrupt departure that was a mystery all wanted solved. However, it didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon. They were clueless. There two main sources adamantly refused to speak of it. Nasuada shot anybody who brought it up an icy glare. One that was actually intimidating. Eventually, people would learn to not question it. She had her reasons of keeping her mouth locked tight. Thought nobody had any earthly idea what those reasons were. It will all be revealed in due time, Garzhvog thought.

Garzhvog was the only…being that remained peaceful. He didn't voice his opinion. He merely opted to sit quietly and observe the proceedings. Nasuada wasn't happy with all the protests that had screamed at her. He even watched her glance at the blank mirror that was once occupied by the elven queen.

He had no idea what would become of the resistance now. Nasuada had obviously given up all hope of winning this war. The elven queen was certainly going to withdraw all forms of support. He expected Orik to follow the queen's footsteps. Orrin would probably shelter the Varden, in hopes of currying Nasuada's favor. Garzhvog wanted to laugh at the Orrin's foolishness. Nasuada held no affections for the man; he was just too blind to see it. He wasn't all stunned by that fact.

He finally reached his housing. His two guards glanced at him before returning their watchful eyes to the Urgals that scurried by. It wasn't uncommon for an Urgal to stand up and try to topple the immediate leader. They always had fights over that position of power. Garzhvog was relieved no Urgal had tried to replace him yet. He couldn't deal with the stress of it at the moment. There was already too much stress happening.

The Urgal's mind kept replaying the day's events. It was a day full of shocks and outrages. Garzhvog didn't even begin to fathom what tomorrow would bring. He would know as soon as the sun rose and he exited his tent. He hoped tomorrow would be a calmer day. Hopefully, Nasuada would come to her damn senses and announce that the war was still on.

For some reason, he wasn't too sure the dark-skinned leader would do that. In his gut the Urgal knew it was pointless to hope. The Varden ruler had backed out of the war. She claimed they couldn't win without the rider and his dragon. Garzhvog thought differently however. He knew he would not be able to sway the leader's choice thought. It was futile to even attempt it.

The Urgal leader decided to just rest for a few moments. He needed to let the day's events settle into him. He had to let the shock slowly drain out of him. He hated not being able to fight.

There was another major issue. Now that Nasuada had withdrawn from the war, there was no way she could fulfill the promise she had made to the Urgals. They would want blood. They were promised land to breed and run about peacefully. Nasuada was going to back out of their deal. The Urgals would not tolerate it. Garzhvog knew that well enough. Blood would be spilled. He wouldn't be able to stop his fellow Urgals. They would want revenge. They would satisfy themselves until they felt the price had been paid in full. There wouldn't be any stopping them.

The dark-skinned ruler really had made a grave error. One that might cost her the ultimate price, her precious life was on the line now. Garzhvog snorted at how unwise the Varden leader was suddenly appearing to be. He knew blood would stain the ground because of this decision. It was inevitable.

Arina would never have guessed she would immensely enjoy the shocked looks that washed over the noblemen's faces. Her appeared must have wound them up good. All their mouths had dropped opened in astonishment. They never had seen her beauty be flaunted like it was now. She had dressed in the most perfect dress. It accented her natural curves, and dipped down low in the front. She surmised it was beautiful yet elegant on her form. It certainly seemed pleasing to the men that watched her with hungry eyes.

Lydia stood at the bottom of the grand staircase. Her arm was linked with a young looking man. He had hazel eyes and chocolate colored hair. He was dressed in a tunic that was barely a shade darker than what his wife was wearing. Black leggings hugged his legs, and cloth brown boots covered his feet.

"Hullo, name's Barric, please to meet your acquaintance." He politely introduced himself, smiling kindly.

"A pleasure it certainly it is." Arina turned her attention to her best female friend. Lydia's face was covered by the brightest grin she had ever seen. The girl was immensely happy and excited her husband had returned from the lines of war. "Ah, seems your presence has a tremendous effect on Lydia here." When Arina said that, a blush had splotched Lydia's cheeks. They were soon a rosy red color. Arina chuckled at her friend's face.

"Oh, shush," Lydia said, swatting Arina on her arm. "I'm sure if you were happily in love like I was you would be looking the exact same way."

"But I am not," Arina replied, smiling at her friend.

With a smirk, Lydia spoke. "I doubt that will be the case for much longer."

"Oh, why is that?" Arina questioned, knowing where Lydia was heading.

"Maybe you will finally settle down on a handsome noble tonight." Arina just shook her head. "Oh, come on! Believe a tad bit!" Lydia held up her pinky and thumb and held them a few spaces apart.

"No thank you," Arina said. Noticing her friend's questioning look, she explained her words. "I have no need for a man as of this moment. They aren't worth my time, in my opinion."

"If you say so," Lydia spoke not buying it in the least.

"Shall we head to the main room?" Barric intoned, looking uncomfortable. Why men grew fidgety in the presence of girl talk was something Arina would never understand.

"We shall," Lydia replied enthusiastically, bouncing on her toes. Arina couldn't help but grin at her friend's eagerness.

"Let's!" Arina cheered. Arina walked beside Lydia as they made their way were the real party was being held.

Arina couldn't help but gasp when her eyes glanced upon the room. It was decorated lavishly. Gold streamers were strewn about. Golden tapestry adorn with red stitching was dangling from every column that resided in the room. The white marble columns clashed brilliantly with the gold and red. The black floor shined from being freshly polished. Grand oak tables were erected in the middle of the room. Galbatorix certainly go all out on this celebration. What a grand party indeed.

A small band took up residence in the center of room along the left wall. Their mouths and hands worked their precious instruments. Sweet music filled the spacious chamber. A few people were swaying to the slow beat.

The tables were piled high with different food. They all looked mouthwatering. Arina couldn't wait to sample them all. Her mouth watered at the mere thought. She saw a couple of chubby men stuffing their faces with cooked meat. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the two of them. She wouldn't be that...outlandish. She noticed that a few people had their eyes trained on the two men. Their eyes showed outright revulsion.

"Seems Rhett and Landford have good directly for the food," Barric commented lightly, amusement coloring his tone.

"You know them?" Arina questioned, facing Barric.

"Yes, they were in an old battalion of mine. Before I was switched to a higher position in a new battalion, they were awfully odd." Barric watched them with humor shining in his eyes.

"Ah, well they are mostly certainly diving in the food with vigor." Arina said, trying to keep the disdain from her tone. She simply wouldn't appear to be a snobbish noble. She was a maid. If it wasn't for the fact that she worked for Justus, she wouldn't be attending this event at all. She would probably be working it. She had no right to be here yet she was.

"Yes, most definitely," Lydia agreed.

Suddenly raucous laughter could be heard over the music. A group of five men were sitting at the far right end table. Their hands held onto tankards full of expensive mead. They faces were flushed, indicating they had been drinking before the party officially began.

A laugh bubbled out of Lydia's and Barric's throats. Arina rolled her eyes. She didn't know what was so amusing about inebriated men. They were brash, crude, and sometimes cruel.

Arina's eyes finally landed on King Galbatorix's form. His silver crown, inlaid with diamonds, sapphires, and rubies, rested about his head. His shoulder length black hair was combed neatly. His goatee was trimmed to perfection. His white tunic was stain free. A black cape was tied at the base of his neck and laid elegantly over the back of his chair.

To the right of him sat Murtagh. The Red Rider looked positively grim. He didn't appear to be the least bit happy. A scowl set on his pale face. His black hair was in wild disarray. His blue eyes were ice cold. Arina had not the slightest idea why the Red Rider looked so irked. His body was taut not relaxed at all. His hands gripped his mug of mead tightly, turning paler than his normal skin tone.

Arina knew better than to ask about it. Besides, Murtagh wasn't of her concern. He was a person who always scowled and glared at whoever walked by him. He never appeared happy or content. He always sulked around, looking crestfallen. Arina had no idea what made him like this. He didn't seem to enjoy life at all. Oh well, Arina thought moving her eyes away from the rider.

She finally sought out the one person she wanted to see. Justus was leaning against the wall. His face was masked with boredom. He watched the on goings with a vacant gleam in his ruby eyes. His blood-red lips were set in a straight line.

Arina knew what Justus was. He was a Shade. An evil demon created by skilled magicians. They had implanted a vindictive spirit inside his body. However, he was different from other Shades. Justus seemed to be in more control. He didn't lapse into fits of uncontrollable violence. He was always calm and stoic. He wasn't as vicious as most Shades were.

She had heard of Galbatorix talking highly of him. How he was the perfect Shade. He controlled his rage and violence. He disciplined himself. He didn't allow himself to be overpowered by bloodlust. He was composed.

Also, another thing, he was more powerful than a normal Shade. His magic, as Galbatorix boasted about, was unmatchable. His speed was appalling and fatal. His strength knew no bounds. He was a master swordsman. He handled his two blades with deadly precision. Nobody could stand up to his power.

Arina was shocked Galbatorix hadn't had Justus slaughtered yet. He struck her as a man who didn't appreciate competition. However, she heard that Justus served Galbatorix without question. He was unwavering in his loyalty to his master. He did everything Galbatorix asked of him without agreement or second thought. He obeyed his master like a whipped puppy. Justus was a staunch supported and defender of Galbatorix.

Arina didn't know where Justus hailed from. She had been told that a general had found Justus laying in one of the side streets of Uru'baen. The general had reached to grab Justus, but Justus quickly evaded the man's hand. He had fought with all his might against the general. However, he was sickly and dehydrated. The general just had to tire the young Justus. After Justus collapsed from exhaustion, the general had picked him up.

He had delivered Justus to the King. The King had a look of astonishment on his face when he looked upon the unconscious man's face. Galbatorix demanded harshly the man be escorted to a private chamber.

When Justus awoke, Galbatorix offered him a place beside him. He promised Justus that he would teach him the way of the sword and how to use magic. Justus grudgingly accepted it, not knowing what else to do.

Now, a little over a year later, Justus was the King's most trusted and deadliest servant. Nobody dared cross Galbatorix in fear of garnering Justus' wrath. A wrath few heard of and witnessed. They said they would never want to face a death that horrible.

His outfit suited him perfectly. He seemed to actually be at peace. His face hinted no emotions, but it wasn't taut like usual either. His eyes flicked over to where she stood. Justus didn't show the slightest reaction. Arina mentally huffed in outrage. She looked gorgeous. All the men were fawning over her. Arina should have known Justus wouldn't be affected at all. He appeared impervious to a woman's charms and looks.

Galbatorix stood, a tankard of mead in his had like all the other men. "Sit, my friends, let us be merry tonight!" Galbatorix's voice boomed inside the chamber. People scurried to comply with Galbatorix's spoken command. They all hastily made their ways into seats.

The important people sat by Galbatorix. Justus was sitting on his left. The higher position you were in Galbatorix's pecking order, the closer you sat toward the King. She was a good thirty people from Galbatorix. She wasn't permitted to sit by Justus. Besides, she would rather sit with Lydia and her husband.

Chatter rose into the air. Men discussed the Varden's unexpected withdrawn from the war. They regaled the people around them with tale of their time spent in the war. They also prattled on about the woman they currently had bedded. They talked about what men typically talked about. Some of the things said made Arina want to turn green. They went into much detail about how they killed a soldier. Some even had the audacity to illustrate their late night adventures with their spouses or the whores who crawled into their bed that particular night.

Arina wanted to slap the men who went into too much detail about those two subjects. She glanced where Justus was sitting. He was sitting quietly, not partaking in the conversation that buzzed around him. The King had a look of childish excitement on his features. Murtagh even looked interested at what the men in front of them was saying.

"Ah, that would be Maddox," Barric's voice said out of the blue. "He's an accomplished general in the war. He's strategic and brutal. Maddox doesn't know how to show mercy or kindness. It's best you kept away from him." Arina would take Barric's advice to heart.

"You're a captain, right?" Arina remembered Lydia saying something, but wanted to confirm it.

"Yes, I am captain. I served under general Eldon. Eldon was a peacefully man. He knew kindness. He never spoke harshly. He was always encouraging. He was a good man all in all. Sad to believe he died." Barric's eyes were filled with sadness.

Lydia placed a comforting hand upon her husband's arm. He smiled at her. Arina couldn't' help but smile at their actions. They were so completely in love. It made her a little jealous. Thought it contradicted what she told Lydia earlier, Arina hoped she would find a good man to settle down with. She wanted a man who was kind, handsome, humorous, and romantic. She had no such luck so far. However, she still dreamed about meeting him. She couldn't help but fantasize about how she would meet him.

They continued to talk for a few more hours. Galbatorix then stood up, every eye riveted toward the King. "Now, it is time to dance the night away!" Galbatorix's voice was joyful and filled with easy merriment. She had never seen the King this happy or relaxed. It was a nice change.

Married men instantly asked their wives for a dance.

Barric stood up along with the other men. "May I have this dance?" He asked Lydia.

Lydia giggled. "You may," Lydia grabbed his outstretched hand. They moved toward the dance floor. Arina watched after them longingly.

A voice cracked into her thought process. "Would you care to dance?" A hesitant voice asked. She looked up. Standing there was a young man. He looked to be in his early twenties. He had red hair and blue eyes. Freckles dotted his cheeks and nose. He was adorable.

"Let's dance," she replied. He smiled at her. They followed the same path her friend did earlier. The man's hands came to rest on her hips. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders. He was good looking. His chest was well developed, and he had board shoulders. His curly red hair seemed untamable. They swayed to the beat.

When the song ended, he excused himself. She frowned, not wanting to lose his warm company.

That's how her night progressed. She would dance with different men. Some would even keep her for two or three songs before excusing themselves. She had even danced with Lydia's husband. He was an excellent dancer. She enjoyed dancing with him. Sadly, she had to relinquish him back to his wife.

After dancing with what seemed like the hundredth man, Arina was shocked to her core. Justus came striding up to her. His eyes were staring intently at her. "May I please have the next dance," his soft voice asked. He didn't sound hesitant or confident.

"Yes, you may," she managed to stammer out after a few moments. They began to dance. Justus was an excellent dancer, even better than Barric. Justus' body moved with grace. His body flowed smoothly. Arina couldn't help but grin at him. Justus didn't grin back.

They danced for a while, never pausing. Unlike most guys beforehand, Justus didn't excuse himself after two or three songs. He danced with her for seven songs. They had truly danced the night away. She was all too happy to be in Justus' arms. She wasn't willing to let go just yet.

When they finally stopped their dancing to go fetch drinks did Arina notice how many people were left. Only ten to twenty people remained. Her best friend wasn't in sight nor was her husband. She gathered they went back to Lydia's room to get reacquainted. A shiver ran down her spine at that thought.

A voice broke through her chilling thought. "You look beautiful." Arina's eyes flew to look at Justus' face. No, he did not just compliment her. Justus didn't compliment anybody. However, Justus looked at her steadily. His eyes never strayed away from hers.

"Thank you," she whispered. She couldn't bring herself to talk louder. She feared if she did she would awake in her bed, knowing that it was all a dream.

Justus' lips quirked at the corners slightly. It wasn't normal. Justus never behaved this way. This wasn't natural.

"What has gotten into you?" Arina questioned.

"What do you mean?" Justus asked completely clueless.

"You're acting nice and complimenting me. You don't compliment anybody."

"I do too," Justus argued.

"Do not," Arina disagreed.

"Fine," Justus said surrendering. "You do look beautiful though," Justus spoke again.

Arina couldn't stop the blush that stained her cheeks or neck. She rubbed the back of her neck in nervousness. "Well, I should be buying my leave. It is growing rather late. I have duties to attend to tomorrow. Goodnight, Justus." Arina needed to get away from him. She needed to put some distance between her and Justus. She needed to think over what just occurred.

"Of course. I shall see you tomorrow morn." Justus replied, turning away without another word. Arina's eyes followed him longingly. She wanted to take back her words. She wanted to dance more with her master. Stomping down her desire, she trekked back to her chamber.

Upon arrival, she hastily discarded her dress. She let it land in a heap on the floor. She was relieved she didn't have to ask for assistance to remove it. She changed into her night wear. She settled onto her bed. Her head rested on her pillow. Her body was curled slightly.

What happened? She asked herself. Why was Justus acting like that? Why was he being so nice? It made no sense whatsoever to her. She had no idea what would compel her master to act like that. He was usually reserved or cold. It was one of the two. Sometimes he was angry, but not often.

Why did I react like I did? I never did that before. Arina continued her mental conversation. No man has ever had such an effect on me like Justus does.

Oh no, she thought with dread knotting her stomach. I am in love with my master. Was her last thought before she entered the realm of dreams.

**A/N (2): That was one long chapter! A little over 4,000 words! Oh yeah baby! **

**Hmm…We have some more interesting developments occurring! Wonder why Nasuada decided to back out of the war? Why did Eragon leave them? Why is nobody able to connect with Saphira? What is going on in the Varden? What is the Urgals going to do about their broken agreement? **

**Seems Arina has some new feelings for her master. Wonder what will become of this? I don't know, well I do, but you guys don't! Not at the moment however! **

**All these questions will be answered as the story progresses! I hope you guys stay tuned to find out! **

**Yeah, I know Justus was OOC! I needed him to be! You can blame the mead people! Don't drink and not expect consequences! There are always consequences with drinking! So, drink with caution! **

**Anyways, I only had one reviewer. I'm sad. Oh well, I'm happy somebody at least reviewed! **

**Impstar: Oh, I agree with you completely! I will tell you that wasn't the reason at all! He ran from the Varden, but he also ended up captured by the King! We'll see why he left soon enough, maybe! We will also see how Saphira plays a role in this later on! Thanks for your review! It means a lot to me! I hope you continue to support my story! **

**Thank you for reviewing! I would also like to thank the people who follow or favorited this story! It means a lot to me guys! **

**So far, Captured has 63 reviews, 41 followers, and 18 favorites! Thank you! Not a lot, but to me it is a lot! **

**Review guys! I want your feedback! It means a lot to me! I read every review and reply to it, as you can see! **

**So, please review! Tell me what you think! I'm eagerly awaiting them! **

**Also, I am looking for a Beta! If you are interested PM me! Answer a few questions I have for you, and then I will decide if you can be my Beta! The questions are not hard! I'm just covering bases! I want the best for my story! **

**Thanks to all who apply! It means a lot to me! **

**Your Author, **

**Arya Rocks! **


	16. Chapter 15: New Allies, Maybe

**A/N (1): Sorry for my prolonged absence guys! I was started a new job! Got out of the hospital about two, three weeks ago. So, I'm happy to post this chapter for my fellow readers! I hope you enjoy it!**

**Quote: "I have learned to hate all traitors, and there is no disease that I spit on more than treachery." ~Aeschylus**

**Chapter 15: New Allies, Maybe**

Justus observed his surroundings. His eyes slid over every man that was in this cell. The men were roughly pushed to their knees upon entrance into the cell. There were only four men. Each had a guard behind them, the guard's hands pushing the men's heads down.

"As you requested, here are the men." A guard said, pushing harder against the man's head his hand was on.

Justus merely nodded, his mind focused on studying the men like test objects. "How was there behavior?" He questioned the guard that had spoken.

"Like wild animals. When we entered, they went wild. They snapped their teeth at our throats, trying to tear them out I suppose."

Justus listened intently to guard's statement. "Seems like they wanted blood split," he commented.

The guard chuckled lowly. "Indeed it did, sir." The guard paused for a moment. "They were like beasts. Good thing the spell caster managed to put them under a heavy calming spell. We would have probably lost our lives otherwise."

Justus was shocked at the guard's admission. He hid it beneath an uninterested façade though. "Really?" Justus was curious to what the guard's reply would be.

"Yes. They were strong, much stronger than we anticipated." The guard seemed disturbed by this. "Like I mentioned earlier, they were like untamed beasts. They were out for blood. Their anger was palpable, it settled on your shoulders the moment you entered." The guard shut his eyes, probably recalling the encounter.

"The one underneath me…He was the strongest. It took all my strength to distract him enough for the magician to inflict the spell on him." The other guards nodded in agreement with the man's admission. "I have never seen anything like it. They had so much raw power. It appeared they weren't even utilizing a faction of it." The guard's expression grew darker. "It disturbed me greatly."

Justus hummed, chewing the guard's words over carefully. "Chain them to the far back wall. I will wait until they are fully aware before questioning them."

The guards quickly did as he commanded. They snapped the chains around the captured men's arms and legs. They even took extra precaution and snapped a neck chain around each of them.

"That should suffice. Leave me," Justus commanded. The guards left the room, but not before throwing uncertain glances back at their commander.

Justus stood there for hours. He watched as the men slowly came more aware than what they were before. Finally, the strongest one came to full awareness before the others.

"Who are you?" The man hissed in an inhuman way. "What do you require?"

"I am Galbatorix's right hand man. You may call me Justus." He didn't supply the man with an answer to the man's last question.

"Well, Justus, what do you require?" The man questioned again. The inhuman voice unnerved Justus, but he masked it. He wouldn't let these men see his discomfort.

"Nothing, as of yet," was his mysterious reply.

"You will gain nothing from me or my brethren. We will not give you the answers you seek." The man sounded extremely confident. The other men nodded along, finally coming to the level of awareness as the man who spoke.

Justus assumed this man was the leader. "I take it you are the leader?"

"Why asked a question you already know the answer to? Then it becomes pointless."

"I like to make sure my assumptions are true. If a man lives based off his assumptions, then he is a dead man."

"That is true," the leader said a bit reluctantly. "Why have you ordered our captured? We have done nothing wrong?"

"I merely wanted to meet you. The circumstances wouldn't permit me to meet you unless you were dragged here like prisoners." Justus stated bluntly.

The leader chortled loudly. "I wished we were informed beforehand. Would have made this a lot easier for your guards to subdue us." The leader admitted with a wolfish grin.

"I preferred you weren't aware. I had to make it look like you really were prisoners. I also required all of you to play the role of prisoners perfectly. You did." Justus didn't hand out compliments. He felt like these men deserved one however.

"Well, happy to be of service. Now what do you want?" The leader asked, a serious look entering his eyes.

"Ah, yes, let's arrive to the heart of the matter." Justus replied airily. "The Varden, I need information on the Varden." Justus said, stepping closer to the leader.

The man's mouth twisted into a feral grin. His teeth sparkled against his dark complexion. "That I can answer," the man said his voice spoke of undeniable pleasure discussing the Varden would bring him.

"Good," Justus commented with a twisted smile of his own. "I want to know every grain of information you can provide me with."

"I shall, for a price." The leader bargained.

"Name it."

"I want to be the one to make the Varden's leader, Nasuada, bleed to her agonizing death. I shall make her death a pleasant one. She shall feel my wrath. She shall beg for mercy. Mercy I intend not to hand over to her. She shall die by my hand alone. This is the price I want paid for my services." The leader's voice had turned passionate. He obviously held something over Nasuada's head. He desired her death to be long and painful. Justus' had new respect for the man.

"You shall have it." Justus wasn't going to say no. Here was a man willing to eliminate one of the Varden's main sources of power. The loss of their leader would see that the Varden was torn to tatters. Justus' dark side purred with bliss.

"Good. The Varden, per Nasuada's orders, surrendered the fight. They retreated into Surda. Nasuada is a firm believer Galbatorix shall not bother them there. They are merely cowards. They disgust me greatly. I was hoping they would should some steel and continue the fight." The leader spat the words out with pure contempt. He was certainly looking forward to a bloody war.

"Why? Why did she back out?" This was the one question Justus wanted to hear. He had heard so many different tales, that he didn't know what was true or what was false.

"Because the loss of their precious Rider. The people of the Varden have no idea what happened to him. They said he disappeared into the thick of the night. They whisper the last person to see him was Nasuada herself. That put the people on edge against her. However, they are too afraid to rebel against her. If they rebel against her, then they have nowhere to go. If they are forced to choose between her and Galbatorix, they shall choose her."

That made a lot of sense the Justus, well the latter part did. The people within the Varden deeply loathed his King. "Why did the loss of their Rider cause the Varden to surrender?" Justus saw no reason behind this.

"He was their only hope. Without him, the Varden is useless. They have nothing to use against Galbatorix, let alone his second Rider, Murtagh. They were basically screwed. They would have been slaughtered by the dozens. They wouldn't last Dras' Leona, except for maybe a few moments. Without their Rider, the Varden don't have a hope to defeat Galbatorix. They needed him to dethrone the King. This is why they backed out at the loss of their Rider."

Justus absorbed this new information. He had heard this rumor when listening in on the latest gossip. He wasn't one for gossip. However, it was about the Varden, he needed to know what was being said. He wanted to gather data on his King's biggest enemy. It appeared that enemy was now neutralized. "I see," was all he uttered to the man. He was still processing the data he had just gleaned.

"I view it as stupid. An idiotic choice is what Nasuada made. I'm disappointed that the people haven't risen up and killed her yet. However, they are afraid of her. Also, she is a formidable leader. "The leader's face was scrunched up in thought.

"Well, it seems they are living under a tyrant. I don't see the different between her and Galbatorix." Justus commented.

The man snorted. "My point exactly. They are still being lawed by a tyrant. She has them pinned underneath her thumb. They just don't see it yet. They will though. She showed it when she made the decision of backing out of the war without consulting the other leaders for their opinions. She has set her own demised in motion. I don't pity her, because she is a fool. A fool that will die by her poor choices." The leader paused to gather his wits. "I still hold out hope that I shall be the one to end her. Yet my hope is diminishing with each choice she makes and every word that is spoken by her tongue. I'm greatly saddened by that fact." The leader's eyes bleed with contempt and loathing for the Varden leader. Justus then decided he never wanted to be on the end of this man's wrath.

"We shall see. Those people may not threaten her one bit."

"I hope not," the man spat out. "I want to taste her blood. My hatred will halt until I have shed her precious blood. I will soak the ground beneath her with her own blood. The earth shall turn red with her life source."

Justus was inspired by this man's devotion to seek his revenge. Justus wasn't going to ask what vendetta he held against the Varden's ruler. It wasn't his place to know so he wouldn't ask. "I shall see to it your revenge is attained." Justus' voice dripped with promise. A seductive voice hummed in pleasure at the thought of blood. The bright red substance gave Justus the highest of highs. It was something he could never truly control. He held it at bay when in the company of others. Once alone, that bloodlust refused to be held back any longer. It was why his kills were always a bloody massacre.

"I shall hold you to that." The man replied, eyes boring into Justus' ruby eyes. "I heard what the guards told you earlier. Yes, we are animalistic. I love the smell and taste of blood. The screams of death excite me beyond belief. I can't live without death. I must spread it wherever I go. I leave a bath of blood in my wake, always. I shall continue to do so until I breathe my last breath." The leader's eyes grew darker with each word.

Justus licked his suddenly dry lips. "I understand. I crave the pleasure that comes from sending people to death. I love the sight of blood." Justus and this man would be good friends. Justus could already tell a connection was forming between them.

"Then we have an understanding." The leader was apparently spotting that same connection forming also. "Good." The man spoke with a gruff voice.

"I shall have Galbatorix test your limits. I shall see if I have use of you in my battalion. I only recruit the most beastly people in mine. I don't want to see a line drawn. I want my soldiers to be animals. They must be obsessed with blood. They must love smiting others down for their own gains. I will not tolerate it any other way." Justus spoke with conviction. He wanted strong, untouchable men to join him in battle. He wouldn't take a bunch of cowards. He wanted men that knew no boundaries. That was willing to sacrifice their sanity for the sake of spilling blood. He wanted an army that was only out for the sweet satisfaction of providing death to those who dared stand against them. It was as simple as that.

"We have no limits. We can most certainly be animals. Have no doubt about that." The leader's voice was dead serious. However, there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Trust me; I enjoy stepping on other people to achieve my goal."

"Then you shall be of great use to me. However, I don't want my commands questioned. I expect my orders to be followed out immediately. I shall not hesitate to strike down those who oppose me. I have no qualms about killing. I am leader, so I shall be treated with respect. My orders shall not be questioned. I require unwavering loyalty." Justus didn't have time to play childish games with his inferiors. So, he squashed any of those notions with the words he just spoken. He wouldn't have people undermining his authority. It would simply only create chaos. Chaos he couldn't afford at the moment.

"I swear to not question your commands or your judgments. However, I would like to voice my own opinions if I see they can be of assistance to your battle plan or anything close to that."

"You may offer input, just do not take control of my battalion. I will have your head detached from your shoulders before an order left your mouth." Justus saw the man's respect for him grow. "I will listen to opinions, but I will rebuff them if I see they are not needed."

"I understand clearly. I will help you out anyway I can, but I shall not take your position as leader. I shall not challenge you for that position either. I will leave it alone. My men will do the same. They will listen to me and abide by my rules. I will pass your orders onto them. They have sworn their loyalty to me." The leader glanced at his men, who nodded their heads in consent.

"That is fine; just don't plan a rebellion behind my back. I will hear of it before you can do anything, and you will regret planning something in the first place." Justus warned. He would shove all the preliminaries out of the way. It saved valuable time.

"We shall not, I give you my word. You give me your word that I shall be the one to end Nasuada." The leader wanted his payment. He would make damn sure he received it. He would make Justus swear to him.

"I swear you shall be the one to end Nasuada's pitiful life." Justus said, speaking in the ancient language. "You did understand me just now, correct?" Justus asked, switching to normal tongue. He had no idea if these men spoke the language of the elves or not.

"No, not one little bit. What did you say?" The leader looked at him curiously.

"I swore that you would receive your payment. That you would be the one to end Nasuada's pitiful life." Justus replied.

The leader nodded his acceptance. "I know that's the ancient language. I have heard a few words spoken in it before. Never bothered learning what they meant however." The leader said this comment off-handedly. He wasn't fazed by his lack of knowledge in that tongue.

"Most men don't. They leave it for the magicians."

The leader hummed. "Are you finished with us?"

Justus simply nodded as he exited the cell. After locking the cell door, did he speak. "I shall fetch you after I am done. I will have you out by tonight or early morn the next day. Your skills may prove to be fairly useful. Shall we meet again soon." Justus left the dungeon.

_Never asked his name, oh well_, Justus thought to himself as he sauntered down the corridor.

Justus would convene with Galbatorix about this. Hopefully, the king would see the advantage of this and agree with Justus' plan. However, if he didn't, Justus would have to go behind Galbatorix's back. Something he really didn't want to do. He wasn't one to commit treachery. However, this situation called for it if Galbatorix didn't agree with him.

Justus would just have to keep in on a low profile. He could easily cover his tracks. These men were something they were in dire need of. Galbatorix had to perceive that.

Justus glanced at where his feet had taken him. He glanced up at the lone door that led into Galbatorix's personal chambers. _Might as well cross that bridge_, Justus thought to himself as he grabbed the door's handle. Justus steeled himself for the argument he knew was coming. There was no turning back now.

**A/N (2): Appears Justus is making his own allies. Who are these people? Are they telling the truth about the Varden? What does the 'leader' have against Nasuada? **

**All very interesting questions! We shall find the answers out soon enough! Well, unless I decide to throw more plost twists in this thing! Which I probably will! **

**Now onto answering reviews! **

**Guest: Haha! I'm glad you love my story! That means a lot to me! Yes, Justus is Eragon turned Shade! Thank you for your review!**

**Firedragon99: I will reveal that later in the story! So, please stick around to find out! Thanks for reviewing! **

**Impstar: Yep, you were the only one! Ah! I was hoping somebody would notice that and bring it up! Thank you for doing that! I agree with you wholeheartedly! The best way to sum it up is that Arian believes she loves Justus! She doesn't love Justus, yet! She will be a major character in this story though, so she'll be around for a long while! Thank you for reviewing! I hope this chapter makes you happy I updated!**

** : Thanks! I think everybody else is as curious as you are also! However, I torture my readers! Keep them on their toes! So, your curiosity will be satisfied, it will more than likely be a while before it is though! I intend to introduce a lot more possibilities and more questions! I want to make my reader's minds work! Thanks for reviewing! Happy you're sticking with me!**

**Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! You all make my day when I see what you've written! You guys keep me motivated! **

**Thanks to all the people who follow or favorited this story! It brings a smile to face when I see how much my story is loved! I expected a lot of people to despise it! **

**Thanks to all of my readers! If you read this story, please drop a review! You can even P.M. me if you want! I answer to everybody! I do love and live for feedback!**

**I'm blowing this popsicle stand,**

**Arya Rocks **


	17. Chapter 16: Shocking New Twist

**A/N (1): This chapter won't be long at all! There's your warning! I decided to give you a little suspense. This story needs some more suspense in it, don't you guys agree? So, I added some! Let another piece be added to the game (a new plot twist)! Have fun working this one out! **

**Quote: "The citizen is becoming a pawn in a game where nobody knows the rules, where everybody consequently doubts that there are rules at all, and where the vocabulary has been diminished to such an extent that nobody is even sure what the game is all about." ~Andrew Eldritch**

**Chapter 16: Shocking New Twist**

Nasuada monitored her every move. Ever since she announced the withdrawal of the Varden from the war, she felt like everybody was out to get her. _Well, I can't really blame them_, she thought to herself. She was the one who didn't confer with her fellow leaders. She had basically painted a target on herself.

However, to her immense relief, nobody had jumped out to assassinate her, yet. She was still awaiting the first strike. They were probably waiting for her to grow comfortable, waiting until she wasn't on her guard for an attack. Well, she would bait them out. She had to discover who was loyal to her decision and who wasn't. It was a game she was more than willing to be a pawn in. She owed it to Eragon to do this.

What the people wasn't aware of, was that she promised Eragon that she wouldn't utter a word that was spoken in her tent the night he left the Varden. She had given his her oath that she wouldn't. She was bound by the ancient language. Eragon demanded she give it before he spoke a single word. She had to cave in.

Her vassal had shocked her greatly. It certainly was a twist of events. What he proposed that night nearly had her nearing an early grave. It certainly gave her heart a stir. She had no clue why he decided to do what he did. Eragon's mind was set; he wasn't going to budge otherwise. No matter how much she shouted that it was pure foolishness, he wouldn't budge. She saw it as a mission that was futile. Eragon, however, believed it was the key to everything. The key to vanquishing Galbatorix, Nasuada was hooked when he said that.

She had, grudgingly, given him her consent. He would have done it without her consent anyways. She witnessed the fire in his eyes. He was going to carry out this mission one way or another. It was easier for both of them for her just to accept it. She didn't agree one bit with it. She wanted to strangle the boy for suggesting such a plan. Nasuada never could understand what went through that boy's head.

She had depended on Saphira to back her up. That backfired in her face. The great dragoness was in complete agreement with her rider. Saphira had thrown her entire support behind the mission. That was another stunner during the course of their conversation. It didn't help Nasuada's health one bit.

She questioned Eragon why this mission was so important. He simply stated it was to gain power. He confessed he was in no way going to defeat Galbatorix at his current level of power. Galbatorix will destroy me within moments was his exact words. I can barely hold my own against Arya was another thing he had mentioned.

It had sent Nasuada's head spinning. He was proposing a preposterous plan! Out of all the ludicrous missions he had been on, this one definitely ranked number one. Nasuada couldn't help but agree with his statements about his power. She knew Eragon didn't hold a candle to Galbatorix's strength. Eragon could barely keep Murtagh at bay. He was going to need all the help he could attain. That still didn't make this mission right in her eyes. She had fought him with all her strength, but she still lost. She wasn't going to control her vassal like a puppet. He was free to do as he pleased.

She had hoped, and prayed, his plan was successful. He swore he would return when she needed him most. He had swayed her to surrender the war. He told her to just stay hidden in Surda until he returned. She followed Eragon's orders to the letter. Nasuada hoped Eragon's brilliant plan didn't get her killed. She wasn't ready to die just yet. She wanted to see Eragon when he finally came back. Nasuada wanted to watch Eragon destroy the black tyrant. She had pinned her whole life on this.

Nasuada was beginning to regret swearing an oath to Eragon. He had most certainly made her life way more interesting. She would demand an apology when he returned. Until then, she would have to wait the storm that coming out. Nasuada did not like that at all.

At least she was safely in her tent. The Nighthawks still continued to guard her at all times. They were all human now. The elves had returned to their forests, and the dwarves had returned to their caves in the mountains. The Varden ruler could only hope they could be reunited under one banner once again. If Eragon ruined that chance, she would kill him herself. She had made him promises. Promises that went against everything about her, it almost killed her to make them. Eragon assured her it was the right thing to do. Nasuada severely hoped he wouldn't make a fool out of her. That was the only source Nasuada could draw comfort was, was the fact Eragon wasn't a liar. He would keep his end of the bargain. He would dethrone the mad king, even if it ended his life.

Nasuada's mind was racing. She had no idea how Eragon's plan would turn out. It was a complete mystery to her. She only hoped Eragon wouldn't die in the process of carrying it out. She hoped it went the way Eragon planned. There wasn't time for setbacks.

The downside was this plan had a lot of flaws. So many things could go wrong at an instant. There were a lot of setbacks that could occur in a heartbeat. One setback had already occurred. The sapphire dragoness had returned, in unbearable grief. Saphira outright refused to converse with anybody. Nasuada wasn't prepared for this. Eragon's plan was already starting to crumble.

Nasuada wasn't so sure what she had gotten herself into. She figured she had dug her own grave. All was left was her to lay in it. However, she had complete faith in Eragon. He would return. He would carry out his promise to eliminate Galbatorix. Eragon would see this mission to the bitter end.

_Please, Eragon, be successful in your foolish endeavor._ She thought as she lay down upon her cot. She couldn't afford Eragon not keeping his promise. She refused to die until she saw Galbatorix with a blade protruding from his chest. Nasuada swore to herself she would live to see that day. It was a final promise to her father. She would see her late father's life work carried out.

Her mind was still running around in circles as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

**A/N (2): I warned you guys it wouldn't be long! There's your new plot twist! Hmm...What is Eragon up to? What mission did he discuss with Nasuada about? A mission she was reluctant to give her consent to no less. This chapter opened up some new questions! Also another path this story could take! Guess we'll have to wait until I decided to reveal it! **

**Hope you liked the new suspense I mixed in! Hope you all stay tuned to see where this leads! **

**Impstar: Oh, no, they weren't in canon! Sorry if I made it seem that way! Well, I sympathize with her also! I liked Nasuada! I agree with you! Murtagh could probably destroy a majority of their army alone! Elves would be tougher! Galbatorix and Murtagh could probably handle them easily enough together! Especially since Galbatorix has the Eldunarí at his beck and call! No, can't have that haha! I need Eragon to defeat Galbatorix, or this story wouldn't be getting written! Thank you for reviewing again!**

**Guest: Haha! Happy I finally given you your update! I don't update a lot! Sorry about that! I'm always extremely busy! I update when I have time! Happy you liked the new characters I introduced! I needed to add some more blood lovers to coexist with Justus! Justus needed some blood-lusty friends! Well, I did do a Nasuada POV this chapter! I might add an Orrin's POV! I need to write out an Arya's POV! I guess we'll all see whose POV I decided to write in next chapter! Thank you for your review!**

** : I totally plan to make Galbatorix look like a pansy compared to Justus when I'm done developing his character! Galby won't know what hit him! Oh! I'll explain that later in the story! Just about like everything else XD! You know I love to keep you guys on your toes! Thank you for your steady reviewing! Makes my day I have a dedicated reader! **

**Arucane: Hey! I know! I disappeared for almost a year! Real life was kicking my butt! Thanks for reviewing!**

**A huge thank you to my reviewers! You guys mean a lot to me, you know that by now! **

**To anybody who favorites or follows this story, thank you! Love you all! I am also thankful for your support!**

**To my readers, thank you for sticking with me! I hope you leave me some feedback! Don't be shy! I love to hear from you guys! If you feel uncomfortable about making it public, send me a PM! I won't tell anybody what you say! I promise! **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chappie! I'll see y'all, hopefully, within a few weeks! If not, well I apologize for my long absence!**

**See ya next time,**

**Arya Rocks **


	18. Chapter 17: A Meeting and Introductions

**A/N (1): I'm sorry for taking so long to update! This is a nice long update for you guys! I hope you like it! I'll see you at the bottom!**

**Quote: "I no doubt deserve my enemies, but I don't believe I deserve my friends." ~Walt Whitman**

**Chapter 17: A Meeting and Introductions**

Thorn eyed all the people present in the room. Murtagh knew his dragon was contemplating scaring the living hell out of them. Murtagh never understood Thorn's fascination with making the nobles jump in fright.

If Murtagh wasn't connected mentally with Thorn, he would be petrified of the glittering teeth that were hidden inside the red dragon's maw. Murtagh knew his dragon meant no harm. He was just doing it for the fun of it. It amused Thorn to no end to see the nobles sweat in terror or scream in fright.

They were seated at an oval shaped table. Twenty chairs were placed around the table at evenly placed intervals. The chairs were all occupied at the moment. Murtagh's dragon sat close to Galbatorix's dragon. The black dragon appeared even more menacing than the ruby one. Shruikan was easily three times the size of Thorn, maybe even larger. Murtagh told Thorn he should never anger the black dragon. Thorn would easily be outmatched.

Murtagh sat on the King's left side, while Justus sat on the right. Murtagh stared at Justus, trying to see Eragon in his features. There was very little. The only noticeable trait Justus had carried over from Eragon was his chestnut hair. Eragon's warm, brown eyes weren't there. They were replaced by cold, calculating blood red eyes. Sun-kissed skin was transformed into a shade of paleness that no-one but a Shade could achieve. The slightly pointed ears that symbolized his half-brother as a hybrid between a human an elf were now completely pointed like an elf's ears would be. Justus had retrained Eragon's board shoulders and rugged looks. They weren't pointed like an elf's, the ears were the only body features that did that.

Justus didn't have Eragon's personality. That had been the most dramatic change of all. Justus was the complete opposite of Eragon. Murtagh knew some of these new traits were for the better if they had only belonged to Eragon. However, on Justus, they made him deadly. Eragon wasn't a smart boy. Justus was flat out cunning. Eragon wasn't the most powerful spell caster. Justus was incredibly powerful with magic, though he rarely utilized it. Eragon was a very decent sword fighter. Justus was ten times more deadly with a sword, or any weapon, than Eragon could ever dream to be. Justus was a crueler, powerful form of Eragon. He was Eragon's darker side. Justus was Eragon's darkness coming to light, the twisted side.

Murtagh had no clue had Galbatorix had managed to turn Eragon into this. The King had really transformed Eragon into a deadly monster. A deadly monster dubbed Justus. Murtagh wasn't afraid to admit his fear of Justus. Justus could easily best in him in a brawl. Murtagh wasn't dumb. He made sure to steer clear of Justus' wrath.

Murtagh had to applaud Galbatorix on his handiwork. He figured it would be impossible for Eragon to turn into this kind of beast. Justus was heartless. Justus loved the thrill of killing. Murtagh knew the Shade was a bloodthirsty beast. The Shade had no emotions. He just killed for the pleasure of it. Justus tortured people just to hear them scream. Murtagh didn't know how Justus got off of hearing people's agonized yells. Murtagh was nothing like Eragon. He made had become a pawn of Galbatorix's. Unlike Justus though, Murtagh despised his master. He wanted nothing to do with Galbatorix. He assumed Galbatorix would be rid of him once Justus had shown how devoted he was to their master. Galbatorix hadn't tried to kill him yet though, so Murtagh figured the King needed him for some scheme he had hidden up his sleeve. Murtagh was still shocked his head wasn't rolling around on the floor yet. Galbatorix certainly was making sure Murtagh was kept on his toes.

I wonder what Galbatorix has hidden in his sleeve, Murtagh mused to himself. His mind quickly shifted through the many routes the King could possibly wade through. None stood out to him. They simply weren't grandiose enough for his master. Galbatorix loved to pull off the most complex ploys that man could do. His master valued ostentatious game changes. He adored finishing off his enemies with a finesse that was unmatched by any other.

That's what concerned Murtagh the most about Justus. Justus had finesse and viciousness all in one. Justus was a neatly wrapped package that landed squarely onto Galbatorix's lap. Murtagh had hoped his brother would have a different fate from his. Sadly, Eragon's fate appeared to be bleaker than Murtagh's. Murtagh's mind drifted to his dream. The man had told him Murtagh he needed to save somebody who was tucked away inside his master's castle.

Murtagh was too late in acting however, Eragon had already been broken. Murtagh watched, silently, as Eragon became Justus. Justus marked the end of Eragon. Murtagh had failed the man who entrusted him to save Eragon. Murtagh didn't help Alagaësia's last hope of returning to relatively peaceful times. Alagaësia was now doomed to be soaked in blood from a war.

Murtagh was hopeful the Varden really did surrender the war. However, knowing Nasuada, Murtagh was certain the leader had something to fall back on. She was just luring Galbatorix into a false sense of security before she made her strike. It wasn't a bad plan, even though there was many ways it could go wrong. Murtagh was just buying his time to see what fate had stored. He was praying it wasn't any more surprises. Murtagh should have known better. Fate always had surprises laying in wait for all of them.

Murtagh was still stunned from the transformation Eragon had undergone. Murtagh was still digesting that Justus used to be his half-brother. It was a game changer that he was positive about.

Murtagh finally concentrated on what was being spoken of outside his mind's eye. Galbatorix was currently speaking about some battle plan that would obliterate the Varden. Galbatorix even had a pleasured gleam inside his black gems.

"I have an announcement to make," Galbatorix stated loudly, his rich voice dripping like honey. "I have benefited an experiment." A cruel smirk was on the King's face. "It was a success. I was extremely please, and slightly stunned, at the amazing results. It will grantee our victory. We will destroy the Varden once and all. It will show people that they dare not raise their swords against their true ruler." Galbatorix halted his flow of words.

"What experiment, your majesty?" A nobleman asked, looking afraid.

The smirk grew on Galbatorix's face. "An experiment that provided humans with more strength than the elves. It also provided them with a more powerful connection with the magic inside of them. They aren't as strong as Justus, though they do outrank any elf. One of these men could wipe out at ten elves before being taken out." Galbatorix was practically smiling in glee when he spoke those words.

"How will you control them?" Another man seated at the table questioned. "With so much power, they should easily overwhelm us within seconds."

Murtagh was chewing over the man's word. Justus could defeat Galbatorix if he wanted to. Galbatorix stood a better chance against Justus did Murtagh did, though it wasn't much better. Murtagh knew these soldiers would easily wipe out Galbatorix and claim power if they desired to do so. The question was how Galbatorix intends to control these brutes if they desire power. Murtagh was certain they would want power to do as they wished. They wouldn't stand to be control, especially by somebody not as strong as them. They would easily trample over Galbatorix's authority.

"They are altered to obey only me. They will answer to no other. They shall not wish harm to befall upon me. They will serve me. It is like they have given their oath in the ancient language to only serve me. They will take commands from no other. They are my personal soldiers. There aren't many of them. Only a select few made it through the process, a process that was fifty years in the making. It required a lot of resources to carry out my project. I'm overjoyed to see it done. I say about thirty of them are able to be used. The rest were silenced."

The men around the table visibly relaxed at Galbatorix's confident words. Murtagh wasn't eased in the slightest. The King can lose control over his new minions. Murtagh assumed they would be strong enough to overturn the King's oath if their desire to kill was powerful enough. The men gathered around the table were fools.

Murtagh was shocked to see Justus shaking his head at the King's declaration. Apparently, Galbatorix had taken notice of it also. "Do you disagree, Justus?" The King's words had a tint of outrage to them.

Justus, not afraid in the slightest of his master, replied. "Yes." That was his simple one word answer. Justus didn't offer to explain why he saw the King's plan as distasteful.

"Why?" Galbatorix asked his tone barely under control.

"I just believe it is foolish." Justus commented, staring at Galbatorix with lazy eyes. He wasn't bothered by the least at the King's furious stare.

"Why is that?" the King tried again, hoping to drag an answer out of his most faithful servant.

"You won't listen to my opinion. There's no reason to supply my reasoning." Justus said the comment lightly, as if he were talking about the weather.

"How dare you!" Galbatorix shouted in a high pitch shriek. Shuriken, sleeping at the moment, flicked one eye open lazily. The black orb trained on his Rider's back.

"No need to shout."

Galbatorix seemed to only grow more furious at that response. His face was turning a violent shade of red. A breath came blowing out of the King's nose. "How dare you." The King's voice wasn't a shout now. It had lowered considerably. It was now a dead calm. Murtagh knew the Galbatorix was really pissed off now. The King only spoke that way when he was incredibly angry. Justus was going to pay.

"That's much better." Justus said, not caring that the King was beyond mad. He was actually way pass the land of rage.

Suddenly, moving faster than Murtagh could keep up with, Galbatorix had knocked Justus backwards. Justus flew backwards from his chair. His body collided with the wall behind him with a loud thud. The sickening sound of bones snapping could effortlessly be heard. Murtagh flinched at the sound, remembering how painful it was to break bones.

Justus was up instantly. His body tensed, his gaze eyeing Galbatorix with coldness. The room appeared to lose warmth. The room was now hosting coldness to it. Murtagh visibly shivered.

Justus soared at Galbatorix, hands spread out in front of him. Before Galbatorix could react, Justus had his hands around the King's throat, strangling the life out of him. Murtagh watched, transfixed, as the King's failing arms smacked Justus in the face. Justus didn't loosen his death grip on the King's throat.

The King's mouth moved, and Justus' hands relaxed. Galbatorix seized the moment; he pushed hard at Justus' chest. The Shade was pushed backwards a couple steps. Galbatorix had his sword in his hand, pointing the deadly end into Justus' neck. Blood seeped at the slight puncture wound.

"I dare you to move." The King's cold voice threatened. Justus stared with barely veiled despise at his master.

Justus, looking like he really wanted to press his luck, decided to back down. He lowered his head, eyes now looking at the floor. That the ultimate sign of obedience to Galbatorix for he removed the sword from Justus' neck. Once the sword was no long touching the skin of Justus' neck, the puncture wound healed on its own accord.

Justus returned to his seat, his face cold. Galbatorix watched and spoke once Justus was seated. "Well, now that is over, I would like to introduce the members of the board that overlooked this experiment. They also made it a huge success." Galbatorix nodded at the guard stationed by the door. The guard hurriedly opened the door. A group of men proceeded to stride inside the meeting chamber.

The group consisted of eight men. A man with bronze hair and blue eyes stepped forward. The other men hung back. Murtagh automatically assumed this man was their 'leader'. "Hello, I see Galbatorix decided it was time he introduced all of us." The man said with an impish grin. He was young looking and muscular. He was what ladies sought in an eligible husband, look wise that is. "My name is Bran." The bronze haired man said.

A man with gray hair, with an extremely wrinkled face stepped out next. "My name is Nickolas." He introduced himself as well. His bread swayed lightly with his steps as he took a step back.

A younger looking man came forward next. He had bright, liquid caramel eyes. His face was lightly tanned. He was a little on the lanky side. "Please refer to me as Cole." He said with a cold voice. He didn't look at all pleased to be here. Cole stepped backwards also.

The youngest looking man of the bunch bounced forward. He bared an excited grin. "Name's Tug!" He greeted them loudly, his voice booming. His startling gray eyes were lit up with excitement. Murtagh had no clue why this man was so pleased to be here. Murtagh figured Tug could stand to rub some of his eagerness off on Cole. Tug moved, but only to station himself by Bran's side. These two were obviously friends and leaders.

A middle-aged man came up next. He had red, curly hair that looked wild. His green eyes showed deep intelligence. "Please call me Alonzo." He gave a toothy grin. He wasn't as loud as Tug, but he was a close second. He moved backwards to be replaced by another man.

This man looked to be around Nickolas' age. He had black hair and sea colored eyes that gleamed with mischief. He had the air of a trickster. Murtagh knew to stay away from this man. "Loki," was the man's one word answer. His devious grin was full blown. Murtagh defiantly would steer clear of this man.

Finally the last man came forward. He looked slightly feminine. His body was softer looking than all the other men in the group. His face was angular. Murtagh would have mistaken the man for a girl from behind. The man was built like a twig. He had no muscle tone. He was also short. Murtagh figured the man would barely reach his chest. That was just sad. Murtagh wouldn't have the self-esteem to be working with men who looked like true men. The older guy looked even more dashing than this girly looking man. "My name is Carson." The man's voice was low and soft. The voice almost sounded like a girl's draw. Murtagh pitied this man.

Now all the introductions were over with, Galbatorix resumed speaking. "Well, now that's over with. Let's move on, shall we?" He asked with a slight chuckle. The room was silent. Every nobleman was sizing up the newcomers. Murtagh wanted to groan. This meeting was taking far too long for his liking. He wanted to leave. Murtagh hoped to have a flight with his mighty dragon. Galbatorix coughed, garnering the attention of the men seated at the table.

"Where may we have a seat?" Cole asked, sounding bored.

Galbatorix eyes glanced around the room. "My deepest apologizes. Let me remedy that right now." Galbatorix clapped his hands. The doors were thrown open once again. Maids scurried in, hauling a chair along with them. They quickly placed the seats at the end of the table where they could face Galbatorix head on. The seats were placed slightly behind the men who were already occupying that space of the oval table. They allowed the men to sit with enough space so their legs weren't brushing against the backs of the other men's chairs.

"Thank you," Nickolas spoke this time, taking a seat.

Galbatorix nodded in reply. "Onto the heart of the matters," Galbatorix stated. Suddenly a throat was being cleared rather loudly. "Yes?" Galbatorix spoke, sounding annoyed at the interruption.

It was Bran who cleared his throat. "I was wondering if I may say something before you continue. You have a way of speaking in length. I rather input my words before the chance is gone." There were quiet sniggers inside the chamber. Galbatorix scowled. "I would like a chance to speak with Justus." Galbatorix's scowl deepened. After Justus' display of animosity, Galbatorix wasn't too thrilled with allowing him to speak. Murtagh knew the King was fuming over this silently.

"As you wish," Galbatorix said through clenched teeth, trying to sound polite.

"Thank you," Bran said with a witty smile. Murtagh knew that Bran had purposely worked up Galbatorix. Murtagh had no clue as to why though. "Justus," Bran spoke as to get Justus to look at him instead of the wall. Justus' eyes sluggishly moved to look at the bronze haired man.

"Yes," Justus drawled out. Bran merely quirked an eyebrow at Justus' tone, and Justus got a weird gleam in his red eyes.

Bran chuckled lightly. Murtagh was completely lost. He would figure it out later. "I heard you found some our escapees." Bran's voice sounded highly amused. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind having your maid fetch them for us. We need to conduct an overview. I would hate to see Galbatorix put at any risk." Bran didn't sound at all concern about Galbatorix. Actually, if he was being truthful to himself, Bran sounded like he was insinuating an inside joke of some sort. Murtagh was fairly shocked these two knew each other.

"Ah," Justus hummed, a twinkle in his usually cold eyes. "In fact, I think I know just the men you are referring to. Arina!" Justus yelled, calling his servant.

"What captives?" Galbatorix questioned. He eyed both of the men suspiciously. "What is he talking about, Justus?" Galbatorix asked.

"I picked up some men. They were locked away in a holding cell. I made the guards promise not to breathe a word about them to you."

Murtagh so badly wanted to laugh at the way Galbatorix's face reddened. Galbatorix looked ready to blow.

"You went behind my back?" Galbatorix's voice had a dangerous edge to it.

Justus chose to ignore that edge. "Yes, indeed I did." Justus replied, not sounding bothered at all.

"I will deal with this at a later time." Was all Galbatorix uttered. His black eyes were full of fury. Murtagh knew Justus would be receiving one hell of a pounding later. Murtagh almost felt bad for his half-brother.

A maid came bustling inside the chamber. Her bronze hair fell in sort curls to her waist. Her eyes held a questioning look in them. "Yes, master?" She politely asked Justus, bowing quickly.

"Bring me my captives." He ordered her. Justus' voice was cold as ice. Murtagh wanted to flinch at his tone. Arina nodded her head and left. "Now we wait," Justus announced.

They all waited, nobody making any sound except the low exhale of their breaths. A couple minutes later, Arina came scurrying back in. She was accompanied by six guards. Two guards were by each captive, totaling in four captives. "Here you are, master." Arina said, bowing her head.

"You are dismissed." Justus said, not looking at the maid. Arina hastily exited. "Ah, so we meet again. This time not in a cell." Justus drawled.

The biggest man spoke. "Seems so." A chuckled quickly followed the man's words. "Pray tell why we are gathered before you now?" The man asked, sounding curious. Murtagh shivered at the inhuman quality the man's voice possessed.

"It appears my ally wishes to greet you," was all that Justus supplied. Murtagh noticed the man's brows furrow. He looked confused.

"Who is your ally?" The man asked, glancing about the chamber. His eyes froze on Bran. A loud hiss escaped the man's mouth. "You!" He shouted in rage. "What are you doing here?" The man demanded.

Bran held his hands up in a surrendering position. "I'm not here to harm you. I'm merely here to take a look at you. You did escape your holding cell. I won't lie; I'm highly impressed you pulled that off. That was no doubt a difficult feat." Bran's voice was calming.

The man's posture didn't seem to relax. He was still tense. Murtagh watched as the man's wheels turned inside his head. He was thinking deeply about something. _Probably on how he should reply,_ Murtagh mused to himself.

"Thank you for the compliment." The man's gruff voice spoke, holding only a little anger. He seemed to have calmed down. "It most certainly was no easy feat. I will admit that. You trained your men well." The man paid Bran's compliment back with a compliment of his own. The man's eyes were now focused on Justus. "Why bring them here?"

"They wanted to see you all. Who was I to deny them?" Justus asked rhetorically.

The man snorted. "Well, if you are here to stare, you have accomplished that." The man's voice was cynical. He was obviously speaking toward Bran now.

"I would watch your tongue." Nickolas spat out. Murtagh sniggered to himself at the way the man had made Nickolas bristle. Murtagh had a feeling he wasn't going to like the old man.

The man merely chuckled at Nickolas. Bran cracked a grin at the man's chuckle. Justus looked at the three, his red eyes flicking lazily back and forth.

"Why, of course, oh great one." The man goaded Nickolas. It worked. Nickolas was up and out of his seat. Bran quickly stood also.

He laid a heavy hand on the older man's shoulder. "Sit." He commanded coldly.

Nickolas opened his mouth to retort. However, the look that Bran shot him quieted him instantly. Nickolas fell back into his seat with a huff. Murtagh smiled at the older man's childish antics. He was for sure he wasn't going to like this old man now.

"May we have your permission to release them?" The question was directed at Justus.

"Guards, release them." Justus commanded the six guards. The guards untied the binds that held the prisoners hands and feet together. The men stretched their arm and legs out and slowly stood up.

"Thank you," Bran said, eyeing the men like they were pieces of meat.

The biggest captive nodded his thanks to Justus. Murtagh took a few moments to study them. The biggest captive, standing around six feet six inches tall, looked to be in his early twenties. He was buff, muscles bulging. His chestnut hair was greasy. His tanned face was smeared with dirt. Muddy eyes that seemed too small for the face peered at the other people in the chamber. The man's arms were covered in scars. They varied in length and color. Some were white looking, while others had a bluish tint to them.

Murtagh looked at the second captive. A young man, who appeared to be roughly nineteen, was standing tall. He was around five foot six inches. He was second in command. Murtagh eyes roved over the third captive. A man who looked to be in his late forties had thinning hair and looked sickly. His skin was unnaturally pale.

Murtagh eyes froze on the last captive. Murtagh was positive he knew this man. He looked so startling familiar. Murtagh, to his extreme displeasure, couldn't place him. However, Murtagh knew he knew this man. The man was roughly in his thirties. He had sliver hair that was clipped neatly. He didn't look as bad as the others. His sliver eyes gleamed with intelligence. His skin had a honey color tint to it. His was on the lean side. He stood to be six feet even. He towered over Murtagh's five foot ten inch frame. His face was smooth. His body bored no scars unlike his other companions. Murtagh wondered why that was.

"Would you mind sparring with Justus?" The leader looked at Bran, confusion in his eyes. "I would love to observe you." Bran said with a grin.

"Always the curious one," Tug commented with a grin. "However, I agree with Bran. I would love to see your talent in battling."

"Is that pleasurable to you, Justus?" The biggest captive questioned Justus.

"That shall be fine." Justus said while unsheathing both of his swords. He strode over to the captive. "Here you are." Justus handed over one of his swords to the other man.

"Thanks."

"I never caught your name." Bran spoke up, looking curiously at the captive.

"Ah, you may call me Lucian." The man said in his inhuman voice. Murtagh would never grow accustomed to the quality that voice possessed. It made a shiver slide through his body every time. "Allow me to introduce the rest of my group."

"This is Reeve," the man spoke. His finger was pointed at the youngest of the group. "This is Terrowin," his finger was now directed at the sickly looking man. "Last but not least, this is Althalos." He pointed to the captive that Murtagh's gaze had been stuck on earlier. "We are a team. We move as a group. We hunt as a group. You may say we are like a pack of wolves." Lucian grinned impishly, his teeth coming into view. Murtagh noticed that canines were elongated, making them look dagger like.

Galbatorix noted this also. "What is the problem with your teeth?" The King asked, not caring if he offended the man.

Lucian's eyes swiveled to stare at Galbatorix. Violet tinged with blue met hard, black eyes. "I don't see how it concerns you, but I shall answer however. All of our teeth are like that. The experiment these men performed on us made them that way. I must say it makes ripping people's throats out a lot easier." The manic grin Lucian had while saying the last part had Murtagh feeling fear. He knew not to cross this man, much like he had learned with Justus.

"Ah, so the experiment caused this." Galbatorix mumbled to himself. Bran looked absolutely intrigued with these four men. Murtagh could see a question bubbling on the tip of Bran's tongue.

"Are you furious with us for subjecting tests on you?" Bran asked a fearful gleam in his eyes. Murtagh assumed Bran hoped they weren't so the men would allow him to study them. It was for the sake of science.

The captive looked thoughtful. "No, to my surprise, I am not. I am actually happy you conducted the experiment on me. I, however, do not speak for the rest of my pack." Lucian's eyes cut to his group of men. "You will have to ask them for their personal opinions."

Bran nodded at Lucian's sentence. "I shall. However, I would like to continue questioning you. You seem you speak for the rest of your men. Except on personal matters, correct?"

"That is correct. If the question requires a personal opinion, I speak for myself only. The other members of my group are allowed to speak for themselves also. However, if the question isn't personal, I speak for the whole pack. I am the leader. They follow and obey me. They know not to turn their backs on me, for the consequences are dire. They have witnessed what happens when somebody goes against me."

Murtagh pitied the fool who dared questioned this man's authority. His life was probably ended. Murtagh wouldn't be shocked if that was the case.

"I see," Bran hummed. Murtagh could see a thousand questions shooting through the curious man's mind. "So, you are the alpha?" Bran asked.

"Yes, I am the alpha. Reeve is my second in command, or a beta. The omega is Terrowin."

"Why is the youngest member the beta?" Bran asked looking confused. "I figured it would be Althalos." Murtagh was flummoxed on that matter also.

Lucian chortled. "Reeve may be young, but he is quiet vicious. His viciousness is only second compared to mine. I base my chain of command based solely on their cruelness. Reeve is one bloodthirsty young man. I was impressed by the way he heartlessly slaughtered. He is also a little stronger than Althalos."

Bran's mouth opened again, firing off another question. "Why base your chain of command on viciousness?" Murtagh wondered that also.

"The more vicious a person is, the more blood they spill. I look the smell and sight of blood being splattered onto the ground. It brings me unmatchable pleasure. Reeve loves to spill blood and adores it almost as much as I do. Reeve has a good head on his shoulders. He knows how to strategize and think clearly. He is a good beta. I can attest to that." Lucian spoke, shooting a proud look at his beta. Reeve stood up slightly straighter at the praise.

"Thank you, Alpha," Reeve's deep timbre voice spoke out. It held the air of inhumanness like Lucian's voice. Murtagh shivered once again. "May I speak, Alpha?" Reeve asked, looking at his alpha waiting for permission.

"Go ahead," Lucian said, waving his hand.

"Thank you, Alpha." Reeve spoke politely before talking to them. "I may be young. I will not be ashamed to admit that. However, I was the son of a war lord. He died some three years ago. He was a great leader. He taught me everything he knew. I could plan out a full scale battle by the time I was eight. I learn all about sword-fighting when I turned ten. Father wanted me physically able to handle a sword, which is why I learned at that age." Reeve paused in his speech. "My father was killed by a sickness. Father was most certainly not pleased that was the way he went. He wanted to die on the battle field fighting for honor and glory." Reeve chuckled at what Murtagh assumed was a memory. "He died when I was sixteen. I learned a lot from my father. I was close to besting him." Reeve smirked at that part. "My father was not ashamed to use underhanded tactics in a battle. He would cheat. He told me all was fair in war. There wasn't time to be fair. Be vicious and cruel. Use underhanded methods to win your battles. It matters little what other people think of you. I live by those words. I forever will." Reeve spoke proudly, puffing his chest out a little.

"See why he is my beta now?" Lucian said with a gleam in his eyes.

"Yes," Bran spoke for all of them. Murtagh was shocked Galbatorix had stayed silent during this. He glanced at his master. Galbatorix arms were crossed over his chest. His eyes belied he was deep in thought. Murtagh decided Galbatorix was absorbing and chewing over this new information. The reason he, himself, didn't speak was because he felt like it wasn't his place. He wasn't going to contribute anything to the conversation. He chose to stay quiet and observe much akin to what Galbatorix was opting to do now. "What is the purpose of the omega?" Bran eyes landed on the sickly looking Terrowin.

Terrowin shied away from the attention that was being placed on him. Murtagh now knew the man was shy and timid. "He is our scapegoat. He is the last to partake in a meal. He is the person who we take our frustrations out on. That is why he looks sickly. You should have seen him a few weeks ago. He was black and blue all over. Reeve and I decided to let some tension out on him. He took it without a word. He's a good scapegoat." Lucian said this last part with a condescending tone. He obviously looked down at the omega. Reeve snorted in agreement.

"I see. So he is the weak link?" Bran questioned. Lucian nodded in confirmation. "Does he have any say in anything?"

"No, he doesn't. Only when the question is personal does he speak." Murtagh felt bad for the omega. To live a life where you weren't allow to speak your opinions, used as whipping post, and the last to eat. Murtagh would hate to be him. _But you are._ A voice spoke in Murtagh's mind. _You are Galbatorix's plaything. He never allows you to speak up during meeting. You are an omega. _Murtagh couldn't help but see the truth in the voice's words. He would reflect upon once safely tucked away in his chambers. If Galbatorix didn't keep him back to vent his fury out on after the meeting was concluded. Murtagh had a feeling he was probably was going to be beaten today.

"I see." Bran tapped his finger to his chin. He was thinking fairly deeply. "Well, let's get onto the sparring!" Bran shouted. Tug hooted in agreement. "Justus, if you would please."

Justus nodded before stalking off into the empty space to the right of the room. Bran motioned for Lucian to take the empty space on the left side. Both men were a good amount of space away from the table. The space was completely bare between them. Murtagh wouldn't deny he was excited to see if Justus would get his arse kicked. It would amuse Murtagh to no end. It would give him something to tease Justus about for a while.

Bran stood in the center between the two, slightly in front of them as to not get slashed when they bolted forward to begin the fight. "Begin," Bran said loudly. He quickly stepped back.

Neither of the men moved. They sat there, eyeing their opponent. Justus was the first to jolt forward. That stunned Murtagh, usually Justus hung back. Justus' sword slashed through empty air. Justus suddenly spun sideways, dodging the sword slash that was coming from his side. Murtagh just now noticed Lucian. Murtagh lost hope of observing the battle. The two men moved too fast for his eyes to keep up with. Murtagh could hear the loud clanging of their swords. He could see the shower of sparks that was produced when the two swords met and rubbed together.

Murtagh caught a few glimpses of the battle. The men would slow down occasionally allowing Murtagh to see a few fighting scenes. Murtagh watched as Lucian planted a foot in Justus' chest and use the momentum to catapult over Justus' head. Justus reacted accordingly, spinning around to lock his blade with Lucian's. They sped up again, making Murtagh blind. Murtagh had never seen Justus battle with such ferocity. Murtagh knew Justus toned down his power a lot when battling him or Galbatorix. Murtagh knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Justus wanted to kill Galbatorix, he would do it without batting an eyelash. Galbatorix was in deep shit. Galbatorix would have to do his best to make sure Justus never turned against him.

A clapping brought Murtagh out of his thoughts. His eyes quickly landed on the scene. Justus was declared the victor. Justus' chest was pressed against Lucian's back. His sword pointing at the man's stomach, and Lucian's sword was lying about five feet away. "Good, good!" Bran cheered, looking impressed. "My God, you two were spectacular! You moved with such speed and grace. I was barely able to study your spar. It was truly magnificent!" Bran spoke with joy, clapping his hands together. "Congratulations on your win, Justus." Bran spoke, soundly clapping his half-brother on the back. Justus nodded mutely. His expression shifted out of concentration back to its cold demeanor. "You put up one hell of a fight, Lucian." Bran said, but opting not to touch the alpha. Probably afraid of getting his arm ripped off.

"Been a while since I had an opponent that could beat me. The only reason your guards managed to subdue me was because they caught us unaware. They also had a magician with them. Made us exhausted is what that damn magician did. If it were a fair fight and no magician, I would have slaughtered them all." Lucian didn't appear pleased by the tactics used by the guards to subdue them. "However, I am amazed that they employed such underhand tactics. Therefore, I can't be too upset with them. However, I still hate the magician." Lucian's nose crinkled at the mention of the magician.

"Of course, you provided me with a challenge also. It was a remarkable fight. Hopefully we'll get to repeat it." Justus said, his eyes showing respect. Murtagh knew how hard it was to gain the respect of Justus. Nobody here had it, well except for maybe Galbatorix. Murtagh believed that was more out of necessity instead of real respect. Murtagh wondered if Galbatorix knew that, or if he was that daft. Murtagh could only speculate thought.

"I hope so also." The leader's voice was full of respect for Justus. Murtagh had an inklings these two were going to be very good friends within time. "May we please take our conversation outside? I sorely miss the warmth of the sun." Lucian admitted, glancing longingly out the door.

"Why of course!" Galbatorix decided to speak up. "Let's take this out to the gardens." Galbatorix said cheerfully, trying to gain favor with Lucian.

"I agree," Bran spoke up. "Let's retire to the gardens. I still have plenty of questions for both of you." He said, eyeing both Lucian and Justus.

_Wonder what will happen now_, was Murtagh's thought as they were all ushered outside. He mused what would occur in the garden. Murtagh sighed. This meeting was most certainly going to take a while. He could say goodbye to riding Thorn. Murtagh glanced back at his dragon sadly, before exiting. However, he felt Thorn's understanding as it washed over him. Murtagh was proud he had such a wonderful dragon.

**A/N (2): A Murtagh's POV! Yay! I hope you enjoyed it! This one was rather lengthy haha! Over 6,000 words! I am proud of myself! **

**So, I may so new introductions! These characters will be sticking around in this story for a long while! **

**Yes, I based the captives kind of like a pack of wolves. Lucian being the alpha, Reeve being the beta, and Terrowin being the omega. I have no idea what Althalos is! If you know the pecking order of wolves, please inform me what Althalos is! Well, I'll look it up. That's what Google is for! **

**Justus, Bran, and Lucian will be very good friends for pretty much most of this story! We'll build up to the friendship however! I am looking forward to putting these three together. Gory times are ahead folks! I'm excited to spill some blood! Time to release the monsters! Haha! **

**Ohhh…Seems like there is some tension building between Justus and Galbatorix. Galby is sure walking a thin line at the moment. He better start ass kissing Justus to avoid being killed. I'll let you guys in on a secret; Galby will be around for a long time in this story. Maybe the end, I haven't really decided yet. **

**Hmm..What else? Oh! So, some of you are wondering who the 'test subject' was! You remember the chapter where Eragon, before he became Justus, went and pretty much slaughtered the family that Galbatorix accused of treason. Remember the oldest son Justus was told to bring back? The test subject was that oldest son. That was why Galbatorix demanded Justus bring him back. He was to be tested on. The eldest son ended up dying after being experimented on. So, I hope that answers your questions concerning that! **

**I think that's it…If I missed something, let me know! Now, onto answering the reviews, the things that make my day! **

**Impstar: You'll have to wait and see! I love creating doubt! I feel bad…I read your bio. Totally not creepy at all lol! I write really short chapters according to your tastes. I wish I could belt out chapters over three or four thousand words every time I updated. However, I can't. I don't know why, I just can't! I have trouble going over two thousand sometimes! I'm so happy you continue to read and review my story however! It means a lot to me! I hope my updating speed and stuff doesn't bother you! I try to update as often as possible! I'm just busy every once in a while! I also hope I'm doing a good job at showing and not telling! I've been trying my hardest to work on that! Thank you for reviewing and your continued support of this fic! It means so much to me! Thank you!**

** : Why the heck does your name always get deleted!? It does not make sense! Haha, guess you'll find out by the end of this! Yay! An avid reader! Glad I got your curious! I like having a few curious readers! I'm happy you liked the last chapter! Ah, here's my proof Murtagh still exists! Yes, he does play a major role in this fic! It just takes time to get there! I love Murtagh! He didn't get a good ending with CP…Pissed me off! So, I'm hoping to give him an ending that meets my tastes. Also, hopefully, his ending will meet your tastes! Thank you so much for your staunch support! Thank you for reading! Happy to have you!**

**Insanity Record: Haha, I do also! Thank you for reviewing! I hope you continue to read! **

**Guest: Here's your update! Sorry for taking almost a month! But, I finally got it out! Hope you like it! Thanks for reviewing! **

**Guest: Haha! I don't believe I have what it takes to be an author! Thank you though! I mostly write for pleasure! Oh, Eragon definitely did not hold his own against the Black King. He did for a couple of months. However, he broke. He is now Justus. The Black King's feared right hand man! Thank you for reviewing! Hope you continue to read! **

**Thank you to my reviewers! You guys mean a lot to me! You are all awesome! **

**I would like to thank all the people who add or favorite this story! Also, thank you to all my readers! I'm happy my fanfic is being read! Keep it coming!**

**I would appreciate if you guys would give me feedback! Don't be shy! I'm a generally nice person! I love feedback, it helps me write better! Also, it's a great motivator! If you have a problem making it public, shoot me a PM! I'll answer ASAP! **

**Thank you everybody who supports my fic! It really is inspiring to see you all! I hope I inspire you guys to start your own fic! **

**My inspiration came from Reversed Life by Rainxoxo. If you haven't read it, go read it now! It is amazing! I totally recommend it! However, it has an M rating, but she does give you warnings! It's worth the read, trust me! It is also complete! **

**Also, the spin-off of that story, To Move Forward is amazing also! It's WIP-Work In Progress-, but worth reading! It's rated M also! **

**Rainxoxo is a really talented author! So, go give her stories a read! It will totally be worth your while! I highly recommend them both!**

**Also, is it bad I love reading Harry Potter fanfics, yet I never read the books? I haven't read a single Harry Potter book? My friend calls me bat-shit crazy lol! I've tried reading the first book, but I keep getting stuck. I just can't bring myself to finish it. I gave up reading it about five years ago, maybe six. It's been a while. Maybe I should attempt it again! Eh, I'll give it a go! **

**Oh, I'm so excited for the third Hunger Games movie! I didn't like the book as much as the first two, but I'm still excited for the movie! **

**I finally brought me Watch Dogs! It's an awesome game! I've been playing the crap out of it! I need to save up money to buy The Last of Us! The man who was working at GameStop the day I went in said it was superb game! Never heard anything bad about it! I have got to give it a spin! It looks interesting, especially considering the zombie theme! The price is now $39.99! Watch Dogs cost me $66. Mom ranted at me for buying a game for that much. I zoned out on her lol!**

**I'm still waiting for a marathon of The Walking Dead to air! Oh! A marathon of Breaking Bad is supposed to be happening! My math teacher said it was good! I'm going to try to catch that! I also got started on the series The Strain. It looks good! I really want to get into that series! It looks awesome! Also, The Fosters on ABC Family is pretty good. I like it! I also like Mystery Girls, I find it funny! It makes me laugh! The Legend of Korra is up and running again! I need to watch the two new episodes I recorded! I'll do that after I post this! **

**Anybody got opinions on what I should subscribe to? Netflix, Hulu Plus, or Amazon? I need to know the pros and cons of each company? Which one do you guys prefer? Which has the most options? I also need to re-subscribe to Game Informer! **

**Any movies, books, games, or whatever you guys are excited for? Feel free to share and answer my question! **

**Finally ending this long AN note,**

**Arya Rocks **


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